


Magic in the Wind

by btrfly1127



Series: Sea Haven Series [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Family Magic, M/M, Magic, Mystery, Smut, Tomlinson magic, Tomlinson sisters - Freeform, magical Louis, mentions of past minor character murder, non magical harry, small town charm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/btrfly1127/pseuds/btrfly1127
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles has found a last refuge in the small coastal town of Sea Haven, California filled with wacky residents. Designer of a defense system, Harry has been stalked, wounded and watched his friend murdered. He just wants to be left alone and find a little peace. But danger follows him to the sleepy little town.</p><p>Louis Tomlinson has come home. Even the wind whispers his name. He is mysterious, magical and so different, Harry can't help but be drawn to him. He lives in the cliff house and has 6 sisters, all as mysterious has he. Drawn in the web of danger, can Louis save them both from the evil stalking Harry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, first fic ever, so please be nice. I'm basing this whole story off of a series of books by Mrs. Christine Feehan, WHO IS AWESOME AND I LOVE SO MUCH, and I don't own anything (boys or books), and it's mostly all her work (I changed some things, obvs, and i don't know any of these people, and the only thing I take credit for is having the idea to put Harry and Louis in her world. So, now, HUGE shoutout to my partner in crime and wife and she's just an all around FANTASTIC person, my beautiful Belle, who I don't know if she wants to be tagged in it or not, or have her real name associated lol. So we'll do that, until I can ask her. But she Beta's everything I write (or plan to write lol) and i shamelessly use her brain for sex scenes and fixing my mistakes when I start typing too fast. She's just the best, and I will sing her praises everytime I post.
> 
> In order for this storyline to work well, I've had to adjust the ages of Louis' siblings. So they are 31-39. And Harry is 37. Also, all the siblings are Tomlinsons, not Deakins (sorry Dan), and Ernst is not a boy, and is named Erin (sorry lol).

“ _Louis is back_.  _Louis has come home_.”

The whisper was overly loud and tinged with something close to fear. Or respect. Harry Styles couldn't decide which. He'd been hearing the same small-town gossip for several hours and it was always said in the same hushed tones. He hated to admit to curiosity and he wasn't about to stoop to asking, not after he had made such a point of insisting on absolute privacy since he arrived in the small town of Sea Haven last month.

As he walked down the quaint, narrow sidewalk made of wood, the wind seemed to whisper, “ _Louis is back_.” He heard it as he passed the gas station and burly Bud Forrester waved to him. He heard it as he lingered in the small bakery.  _Louis_. The name shouldn't carry mystery, but it did. He had no idea who Louis was, but he commanded such interest and awe from the townspeople, Harry found himself totally intrigued. He knew from experience the people in the sleepy little coastal town were not easily impressed. No amount of money, fame, or title earned one deference. Everyone was treated the same, from the poorest to the richest, and there seemed to be no prejudice against religion or any other preferences. It was why he had ultimately chosen Sea Haven. A man could be anybody here, and no one cared.

All day he had heard the whispers. He'd never once caught a glimpse of the mysterious Louis. But he'd heard that Louis had once climbed the sheer cliffs above the sea to rescue a dog. An impossible task. Harry had seen those crumbling cliffs. He found himself smiling at the idea of anyone attempting such an impossible feat, and few things had ever amused or intrigued him, especially as of late.

He was still smiling as he arrived at the local grocery store; since it was the only one in town, most of the gossip originated there and then spread like wildfire. He hadn't been in the store for more than two minutes when he heard it again. “ _Louis is back_.” The same hushed whisper, the same awe and respect.

Barbara Whitefield, owner of the grocery store, held court, spilling out gossip as she normally did, instead of ringing up the groceries on the cash register. It usually drove him crazy to have to wait, but this time he lingered by the bread rack in the hope of learning more of the mysterious Louis who had finally returned.

“Are you sure, Barbara?” Kara Mitchell asked, dragging her four-year-old closer to her and nearly strangling the child with her hug. “Are his sisters back, too?”

“Oh, I'm certain, all right. He came right into the store as real as you please and bought a ton of groceries. He was back at the cliff house, he said. He didn't say anything about the others, but if one shows up, the others aren't far behind.”

Kara looked around, before lowering her voice another octave. “Was he still…Louis?”

Harry rolled his eyes. Everyone always annoyed the hell out of him. He thought moving to a small town would allow him to find a way to get along to some extent, but most people were just plain idiots. Of course, Louis was still Louis. Who the hell else would he be? Louis was probably the only one with a brain within a fifty-mile radius so they thought he was different.

“What could it mean?” Kara asked. “Louis only comes back when something is going to…” she tapered off, gesturing about, as if looking for a specific word. Harry wondered, as her eyes roamed around, if she was hoping the room would give her an answer. “Happen,” she finally finished, carefully.

“I asked him if everything was all right, and he just smiled in that inexplicable way he has and said yes. You wouldn't want me to pry into Louis' business, now would you, dear?” Barbara said piously.

Harry let his breath out in a hissing rush of impatience. Barbara made it her life's work to pry into everyone's business. Why should the absent Louis be excluded?

“Last time he was here Forrester nearly died, do you remember that?” Kara asked. “He fell from his roof and Louis just happened to be walking by and…” She trailed off and glanced around the store and lowered her voice to a conspirator's whisper. “Old Randall at the fruit stand said Rosie told him Louis –“

“Kara, dear, you know Randall is totally unreliable in the things he says. He's a dear, sweet man, but he sometimes makes things up.” Barbara pointed out.

Harry waited for lightning to strike Barbara for her blatant lie, but nothing happened. Old man Randall was crotchety, mean and known to throw fruit at cars if his mood was foul enough; dear and sweet were not in his description. But as much as Barbara's lie irritated him, Harry wanted to know what Randall had said about Louis, regardless of the old man's reliability. And that _really_ irritated him.

Kara leaned even closer, looked melodramatically to the right and left without even noticing he was there. Harry sighed heavily, wanting to shake the woman. “Do you remember the time little Jeff Rogers fell into that blowhole?”

“I remember that, now that you say. He was wedged in so tight and no one could get to him, he'd slipped down so far. The tide was coming in.”

“I was there, Barbara, I saw Louis get him out.” Kara straightened up. “Rosie said she'd heard from her hairdresser that Louis was working for a secret agency and he was sent to some foreign country undercover, to assassinate the leader of a terrorist group.”

“Oh I don't think so, Kara. Louis wouldn't kill anything.” The store owner's hands fluttered to her throat in protest. “I just can't imagine.”

Harry had had enough of gossip. If they weren't going to say anything worth hearing, he was going to get the hell out of there before Barbara turned her spotlight on him. He plunked his groceries down on the counter and looked as bored as he could manage. “I'm in a hurry, Barbara," he said, hoping to facilitate matters and avoid her usual attempts at matchmaking.

“Why, Harry Styles, how lovely to see you. Have you met Kara Mitchell? Kara is a wonderful woman, a native of our town. She works over at the Siren's Bar and Grill. Have you been there to eat yet? The salmon is very good.”

“So I've heard,” he muttered, barely glancing at Kara to acknowledge the introduction. It didn't matter whether he visited or not. They'd all made up their minds about him, making up the history he refused to provide. He felt a little sorry for the returning Louis. They were making up things about him as well. And then his mouth opened of its own accord and spilled out, “You might tell me about that beautiful old house on the cliffs.” He immediately wanted to clamp a hand over his mouth. He had shocked himself. He had shocked Barbara. He never gave anyone an opening for conversation. He  _wanted_  to be left alone. Damn Louis for being so mysterious. Harry's own curiosity was getting the best of his common sense.

Barbara looked as if she might faint and for once was speechless. She sort of fish mouthed for a moment, and Harry wanted to stop. Wanted to gather up his groceries and hurry out. His mouth, however, continued to work without the permission of its master and prattled on.

“You must know the one I'm talking about,” he persisted. “Three stories, balconies everywhere, a round turret.” He squinted his eyes in memory. “It's grown quite wild around the house, but there's a path leading to the old lighthouse. I was walking up there and with all the overgrowth, I expected the house to be in bad shape, dilapidated like most of the abandoned homes around here, but it was in beautiful condition. I'd like to know what preservatives were used.”

“That's private property, Mr. Styles,” Barbara said, narrowing her eyes at him. “The house has been in the same family for well over a hundred years. I don't know what they use in the paint, but it does weather well. No one  _lurks_  around that house.” She was definitely issuing a reprimand.

“I was hardly  _lurking_ , Barbara,” he said, exasperated. “As you well know, the sea salt is hard on the paint and wood of the houses. That house is in remarkable condition. In fact, it looks newly built. I'm curious as to what was used. I'd like to preserve my house in the same way.” He made an effort to sound reasonable instead of annoyed. “I'm a bit of a chemist and I can't figure out what would keep a house so pristine over the years. There's no sign of damage from the sea, from age, or even insects. Remarkable.”

Barbara pursed her lips, always a bad sign. “Well, I'm certain I have no idea.” Her voice was stiff, as if she were highly offended. She rang up his groceries in astonishing time without saying another word.

Harry gathered up the bags into one arm, his expression daring Barbara to ask him if he needed help. Leaning heavily on his cane, he turned to Kara. “The hairdresser's dog walker told the street cleaner that he saw Louis walk on water.”

Kara's eyes widened in shock, but there was belief on her face. Barbara made some kind of noise he couldn't identify. Disgusted, Harry turned on his heel and stalked out. Ever since the first whisper of Louis' name he had been unsettled. Disturbed. Agitated. There was something familiar growing inside of him. Anticipation? Excitement? That was ridiculous. He muttered a curse under his breath at the absent Louis.

He  _wanted_  to be left alone…didn't he? He nodded his head, reassuring himself. He had no interest in the man the townspeople gossiped about. _Louis_ might not walk on water, but his _house_ was a mystery. Harry saw no reason why he shouldn't pay Louis a neighborly visit and ask what preservatives were used in the wood to achieve the nearly impossible results.

After arriving back at his own home, Harry took his time putting his groceries away. He kept mulling over why he had wound up here, in Sea Haven. He was a man driven to the edge of sanity. Moving to this tiny town on the coast was his last effort to hang onto life. He had no idea how he was going to do it, or  _why_  he had chosen this particular town with all its resident eccentrics, but he had definitely been drawn here. Nothing else would do. He had stepped on the rich soil and knew either this place would be home or he had none. It was hell trying to fit in, but the sea soothed him and the long walks over million-year-old rocks and cliffs occupied his mind.

The knowledge that this town, this place, was his last stand had been so strong he had actually  _purchased_  a house. The structure was one of the few things that gave him pleasure. He loved working on it. He loved the wood. He could lose himself in the artistry of reshaping a room to suit his exact needs. For hours at a time the work occupied him such that nothing else could invade his brain and he was at peace for a time.

He stared out his large bay window, the one that looked out over the sea. The one that had an unobstructed view of the house on the cliff. Harry had spent more hours than he cared to think about staring up at the dark silent windows and the balconies and battlements. It was a unique house from another century, another time and place. There were lights on for the first time. The windows shone a bright welcome.

His leg hurt like hell. He needed to sit and rest, not go traipsing around the countryside. Harry stared at the house, drawn to the warmth of it. It seemed almost alive, begging him to come closer. He went outside on his deck, intending to sit in the chair and enjoy his view of the sea. Instead he found himself limping his way steadily up the path toward the cliffs. It was nearly a compulsion. He seemed to not be in control of his faculties lately.

The path was narrow and steep and rocky in places, almost no more than a deer trail and overgrown at that. His cane slipped on the pebbles and twice he nearly fell. He was swearing by the time he made it to the edge of the private property.

He stood there, staring in shock. He'd been there not two days before, walking around the house and the grounds. It had been wildly overgrown, the bushes high and weeds everywhere. The shrubbery and trees had drooped with winter darkness on the leaves. A noticeable absence of sound had given the place an eerie, creepy feeling. Now there were flowers, as if everything had burst into blossom overnight. A riot of color met his eyes; a carpet of grass was beneath his feet. He could hear the insects buzzing; the sound of frogs calling merrily back and forth as if spring had come instantly.

The gate, which had been securely locked before, now stood open in welcome. Everything seemed to be welcoming him. As he crossed the gate threshold, a sense of peace began to steal into his heart. A small part of him wanted to sit on one of the inviting benches and just soak in the atmosphere.

Roses climbed the trellis and rhododendrons were everywhere, great forests of them. He'd never seen such towering plants. Harry continued up the pathway, noting every single weed was gone. Stepping stones led the way to the house. Each round of stone held a meticulously carved symbol. Great care had been taken to etch the symbol deep into the stone. Harry leaned down to feel the highly polished work. He admired the craftsmanship and detail. The artisans in the small town all had that trait, one he greatly respected.

As he neared the house, a wind rose off the sea and carried sea spray and a lilting melody. “ _Louis is back. Louis is home._ ” The words sang across the land joyously. It was then he heard the birds and looked around him. They were everywhere, all kinds of birds, flitting from tree to tree, a flutter of wings overhead. Squirrels chattered as they rushed from branch to branch. The sun was sinking over the ocean, turning the sky into bright colours of pink and orange and red. The fog was on the far horizon, meeting sea to give the impression of an island on the clouds. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful. He simply stood there, leaning on his cane and staring in wonder at the transformation around him.

Voices eventually drifted from the house, breaking Harry out of his reverie. One was soft and melodious. He couldn't catch the words but the tone worked its way through his skin into his very bones. Into his vital organs. He moved closer, drawn by the sound, and immediately saw two dogs on the front porch. Both were watching him alertly, heads down, fur bristling, neither making a sound.

Harry froze. The voices continued. One was weeping. He could hear the heartbreaking sound. A woman's voice. The melodious voice soothed. Harry shifted his weight and gripped his cane firmly with both hands. If he had to use it as a weapon, that would give him more leverage. As concerned as he was with the dogs, he was more centered on the voice. He strained to listen.

“Please, Louis, you have to be able to do something. I know you can. Please say you'll help me. I can't bear this,” the crying voice said.

The sorrow in her voice was so deep, Harry ached for her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt someone's pain. He couldn't remember how to feel much of anything besides boredom or frustration. The dogs both sniffed the air and, as if recognizing him, wagged their tails in greeting and sat down, fur settling to make them appear much more friendly. Keeping one eye on the dogs, he strained to catch the words spoken in that soft, lilting tone.

“I know it's difficult, Jennifer, but this is something like putting a Band-Aid on a scraped knee. What do the doctors say?”

There was more sobbing. It shook Harry, hurt him, tore up his insides, so that his gut churned and a terrible weight pressed on his chest. He forgot all about the dogs and pressed his hand over his heart. Jennifer Rydell. Now he recognized the voice, knew from Barbara at the grocery store that her fifteen-year-old son, Connor, was terminally ill.

“There's no hope, Louis. They said to take him home and make him comfortable. You know you can find a way. Please do this for us, for me.”

Harry edged closer to the house, wondering what the hell she thought Louis could do. Work a miracle? There was a small silence. The window was open, the wind setting the white lacy curtains dancing. He waited, holding his breath. Waited for Louis' answer. Waited for the sound of his voice.

“Jenn, you know that I don't do that sort of thing. I've only just come back. I haven't even unpacked. You're asking me –“

“Louis, I'm begging you! I'll do anything, give you anything. I'm begging on my knees…” The sobs were choking Harry. The pain was so raw in the woman.

“Jennifer get up! What are you doing? Stop it.” The sound of wood scraping across the floor startled Harry, causing him to loosen his grip on his cane and focus his gaze on the open window. If he concentrated enough, he could almost imagine the blurred silhouettes outlined through the curtains; could picture the illusive Louis helping Jennifer to stand up from where she currently was kneeling on the floor.

“You have to say you'll come see him. Please, Louis. Our mothers were best friends. If not for me, do it for my mother.”

“I'll come by, Jenn. I'm not promising anything, but I'll stop by.” There was resignation in that gentle voice. Weariness. “My sisters will be coming in a day or so, and as soon as we're all rested, we'll stop by and see what we can do.”

“I know you think I'm asking for a miracle, but I'm not, I just want more time with him. Come when you're rested, when the others have come and can help.” The evident relief in Jennifer's voice spilled over to Harry and he had no clue why. Only that the weight pressing on his chest lifted and his heart soared for a moment. Maybe he was overreacting, but he felt as if Louis had not only helped Jennifer up off the floor, but given her the strength to stand on her own two feet despite the crippling sorrow she must be enduring.

“I'll see what I can do.”

The voices were traveling toward him. Harry waited, his heart pounding in anticipation. He had no idea what to expect or even what he wanted, but everything in him stilled.

The door opened and Jennifer emerged to stand on the wide, columned porch. Following her was a man, who Harry took to be the mysterious Louis. “Thank you, Louis. Thank you so much,” Jennifer said, clutching at Louis' hands gratefully. “I knew you would come through.” She hurried down the stairs, straight past the dogs, who had rushed to their master. She managed a quick smile for Harry as she passed him, her tearstained face bright with hope. Harry leaned on his cane and stared up at Louis.


	2. Chapter 2

Louis stood on the porch, his body in the shadows. Harry had no idea of his age, but his face seemed timeless. His eyes were old eyes, filled with intelligence and power. His skin was smooth and flawless, giving him the appearance of extreme youth, very much at odds with the knowledge in his direct gaze. He simply stood there quietly, his incredible eyes fixed on Harry.

“How did you get through the gate?” It wasn't what he expected. Harry half turned to look back at the wrought iron masterpiece of art. The gate was six feet high and an intricate piece of craftsmanship. He had studied it on more than one occasion, noting the symbols and depictions of various animals and stars and moons. A collage of creatures with raw power mixed with universal signs of the earth, water, fire, and wind. Always before when he had come to stare at the house and grounds, the gate had been firmly locked.

“It was open,” he replied simply, turning back to look directly at Louis, who had moved slightly, bringing himself more directly into the light. Harry worked hard to not squeak at the end of his sentence. Louis, now that he was clearly visible, was fucking beautiful.

Louis' eyebrow shot up and he looked from Harry to the gate and back again. There was interest in his gaze. “And the dogs?” His hand dropped to one massive head as he absently scratched the ears.

“They gave me the once-over and decided I was friendly,” Harry answered, hoping he didn't sound as dumbfounded as he felt.

A faint frown touched Louis' face, but was gone in an instant. “Did they? You must get along well with animals.”

“I don't get along well with anything,” Harry blurted out, before he could stop himself. His brain to mouth filter was apparently still malfunctioning. He was so shocked and embarrassed at the admission, that he couldn't find a way to laugh it off, so it remained there between them.

Louis simply studied his face for a long while. An eternity. He had a direct gaze that seemed to see past Harry's physical body and delve straight to his soul. It made Harry uncomfortable and ashamed. “You'd better come in and sit down for a while,” he said. “There's a blackness around your aura. I can tell you're in pain, although I can't see why you've come yet.” He turned and went into the house, clearly expecting Harry to follow. Both dogs did, hurrying after Louis, pacing at his heels.

Harry had been acting out of character ever since he heard that first whisper of gossip. And now, after having met Louis, it was seemingly getting worse. He stood, leaning on his cane, wondering what had gotten into him. He'd seen the mighty Louis. He was just a man with beautiful eyes. And an incredible body. And an intoxicating voice. That was all. But those things were hardly a reason for the town gossip. He couldn't walk on water or move mountains. He couldn't scale impossible cliffs or assassinate heads of terrorist organizations. He was just a man. And probably batshit crazy. What did Louis mean, his aura was black? What the bloody hell did that _mean_? He probably had voodoo dolls and dead chickens in the house.

Harry stared at the open door. Louis didn't come back or look to see if he was following. The house had swallowed him up. Mysterious Louis. Harry lifted his eyes to the gathering darkness, to the first stars and the floating wisps of clouds. It maddened him but he knew he was going to follow Louis into that house. Just like the damn dogs.

Harry consoled himself with the fact that he was extremely interested in the preservation of wood and paint. He had been interested in the house long before Louis had arrived back in town. He couldn't pass up a genuine opportunity to study it up close, even if it meant trying to make small talk with a crazy stranger. He raked his hand through his dark hair, which had gotten fairly long, and glared at the empty doorway. Muttering curses beneath his breath, he stalked after Louis as best he could with his cane and damaged hip and leg. The porch stairs were as solid as a rock. The verandah itself was wide and beautiful, wrapping around the house, an invitation to sit in the shade and enjoy the view of the pounding sea. Harry wanted to linger there and continue to feel the peace, but he stepped inside. The air seemed cool and scented, smelling of some fragrance that reminded him of the forests and flowers. The entryway was wide, tiled with a mosaic design, and it opened into a huge room.

With a sense of awe, Harry stared down at the artwork on the floor. There was a feeling of falling into another world when he looked at it. The deep blue of the sea was really the ocean in the sky. Stars burst and flared into life. The moon was a shining ball of silver. He stood transfixed, wanting to get on his knees and examine every inch of the floor. “I like this floor. It's a shame to walk on it,” he announced loudly.

“I'm glad you like it. I think it's beautiful,” Louis said. His voice was velvet soft, but it carried through the house, back to Harry. “My grandmother and her sisters made that together. It took them a very long time to get it just right. Tell me what you see when you look into the midnight sky there.”

Harry hesitated, but the pull of the floor was too much to resist. He examined it carefully. “There are dark shadows in the clouds across the moon. And behind the clouds, a ring of red surrounds the moon. The stars connect and form a bizarre pattern. The body of a man is floating on the sea of clouds and something has pierced his heart.” He looked up at Louis, a challenge on his face.

Louis merely smiled. “I was about to have tea; would you care for a cup?” He walked away from Harry, into the open kitchen.

Harry could hear the sound of water as Louis filled the teakettle. “Yes, thank you, that sounds good.” And it did, which was crazy. He never drank tea. Not a single cup. He was definitely losing his mind.

“The pictures of my grandmother and her sisters are to your left, if you'd like to see them.”

Harry had always considered looking at pictures of people he didn't know utterly ridiculous, but he couldn't resist looking at the photographs of the women who had managed to create such beauty on a floor. He wandered over to the wall of memories. There were many photographs of women, some black-and-white, others in color. Some of the pictures were very old, but he could easily see the resemblance among the women. Harry cleared his throat. He frowned when he noticed a strange pattern running through every grouping. “Why are there seven women in each family picture?”

“There seems to be a strange phenomenon in our family,” Louis answered readily. “Every generation, someone produces seven daughters.”

Startled, Harry leaned on his cane and studied each group of faces. “One out of the seven girls has always given birth to seven daughters? On purpose?”

Louis laughed and came around the corner to join him in front of the wall of photographs. “Every generation.”

Harry looked from Louis to the pictures on the wall, and his gaze settled on a more recent photo. “Except yours…”

Louis grinned. “Except mine. Mom had me, then six little girls followed. Slightly baffled in that respect, but this family learns to roll with things as they come.”

Harry nodded and went back to the pictures. “Which one carries the strain of insanity?”

“Good question. No one's ever thought to ask it before. My sister Doris is the seventh so she inherits the mantle of that responsibility. Or insanity, if you prefer.” Louis pointed to a girl with a young face, amber eyes, and a wealth of honey coloured hair pulled carelessly into a ponytail.

“And where is poor Doris right now?” Harry asked.

Louis inhaled, and then let his breath out slowly, his long lashes fluttering down. At once, his face was in repose. He looked tranquil, radiant. Watching him did something funny to Harry's heart, a curious melting sensation that was utterly terrifying. He couldn't take his fascinated gaze off of Louis. Strangely, just for one moment, he felt as if Louis was no longer in the room with him. As if his physical body had separated from his spirit, allowing him to travel across time and space. Harry shook himself trying to get rid of the crazy impression. He wasn't an imaginative person, yet he was certain Louis had somehow touched his sister Doris.

“Doris is in a cave of gems, deep under the ground where she can hear the heartbeat of the earth.” Louis opened his eyes and looked at Harry. “I'm Louis Tomlinson.”

“Harry Styles.” He made a sweeping gesture toward his house. “Your new neighbor.” He was staring at Louis, drinking him in. It didn't make sense. He was certain that Louis, while being incredibly good looking, wasn't the most gorgeous person in the world, but Harry's heart and lungs were insisting that he was. Louis was a little on the shorter side, not small, but not quite average. He had a masculine femininity about his figure. He wore faded, worn black jeans and an old t-shirt. But Harry could see that those jeans held powerful thighs and, try as Harry might to avoid looking, an extremely glorious ass. As Louis moved through the kitchen the t-shirt moved with him, clinging in spots. He was curvy, yet firm, and his arms flexed with sleek muscles as he lifted them to the cupboards. Harry's lungs burned for air and his heart accelerated. His body hardened painfully. Louis wasn't even trying to be a sexy siren, simply standing there in his comfortable old clothes, with his feathery caramel hair pushed off the side of his forehead. It was the most infuriating and humiliating thing that was Harry's misfortune to endure.

“You bought the old Gregson place. The view is fantastic. How did you come to find our little town?” Louis' cool blue gaze was direct and far too assessing. “You look like a man who would be far more comfortable in a big city.”

Harry's fist tightened around his cane. Louis could see his knuckles were white. “I saw it on a map and just knew it was the place I wanted to live in when I retired.” Louis studied Harry's face, the lines of suffering etched deep, the eyes too old. He was surrounded with the mark of Death, and he read Death in the midnight sky, yet Louis was strangely drawn to him.

His eyebrow went up, a perfect arch. “You're a little young to retire, I would have thought. There's not a lot of excitement here.”

“I'll have to disagree with that. Have you hung out around the grocery store lately? Barbara provides amazing entertainment.” There was a wealth of sarcasm mixed with contempt in Harry's voice.

Louis turned away from him, his shoulders stiffening visibly. “What do you actually know about Barbara to have managed to form an opinion in your month of living here?” He sounded sweet and interested, but Harry had the feeling he had just stepped hard on Louis' toes.

Harry limped after Louis like a puppy dog, trying not to mutter foul curses under his breath. It never mattered to him what other people thought. Everyone had opinions and few actually had educated ones. What the hell did Louis' opinion of him matter? And why did his hips have to sway with such mesmerizing invitation?

The kitchen was tiled with the same midnight blue that formed the sky in the mosaic. A long bank of windows looked out over a garden of flowers and herbs. He could see a three-tiered fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Louis waved him toward the long table while he fixed the tea. Harry couldn't see a speck of dust or dirt anywhere in the house. “When did you arrive?”

“Late last night. It feels wonderful to be home again. It's been a couple of years since my last visit. My parents are in Europe at the moment. They own several homes and love Italy. My grandmother is with them, so the cliff house has been empty.”

“So this is your parents' home?” When Louis shook his head with his slight, mysterious smile Harry asked, “Do you own this house?”

“With my sisters. It was given to us through our mother.” Louis brought a steaming mug of tea and placed it on the table beside Harry's hand. “I think you'll like this. It's soothing and will help take away the pain.”

“I didn't say I was in pain.” Harry could have kicked himself. Even to his own ears he sounded ridiculous, a defiant child denying the truth. “Thank you,” he managed to mutter, trying to smell the tea without offending him.

Louis sat across from him, cradling a teacup between his palms. “How can I help you, Mr. Styles?”

“Call me Harry,” he said.

“Harry then,” he acknowledged with a small smile. “I'm just Louis.”

Harry could feel his penetrating gaze. “I've been very interested in your house, Louis. The paint hasn't faded or peeled, not even in the salt air. I was hoping you would tell me what preservative you used.”

Louis leaned back in his chair, brought the teacup to his mouth. He had a beautiful mouth. Slender and lips just perfect, and curved like he laughed all the time. Or invited kisses. The thought came unbidden as Harry stared at his mouth. Sheer temptation. Harry felt the weight of Louis' gaze. Color began to creep up the back of his neck.

“I see. You came out late in the evening, even though you were hurting, because you were anxious to know what kind of preservative I use on my house. That certainly makes perfect sense, Harold.”

There was no amusement in his voice, not even a hint of sarcasm, but the dull red color spread to Harry's face. Louis' eyes saw too much, saw into Harry where he didn't want to be seen, where he couldn't afford to be seen. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't seem to pull his gaze away from Louis.

“Tell me why you're really here.” His voice was soft, inviting confidence.

He raked both hands through his hair in frustration. “I honestly don't know. I'm sorry for invading your privacy.” But he wasn't. It was a lie and they both knew it.

Louis took another sip of tea, and gestured towards his mug. “Drink it. It's a special blend I make myself. I think you'll like it and I know it will make you feel better.” After a moment, he grinned at Harry. “I can promise you there aren't any toads or eye of newt in it.”

Louis' smile robbed Harry of breath immediately. It was a strange thing to feel a punch in the gut so hard it drove the air out of one's lungs with a simple smile. He waited several heartbeats until he recovered enough to speak. “Why do you think I need to feel better?” he asked, striving for nonchalance.

“I don't have to be a seer for that, Harry. You're limping. There are white lines around your mouth and your leg is trembling.”

Harry raised the cup to his mouth, took a cautious sip of the brew. The taste was unique. “I was attacked awhile back.” The words emerged before he could stop them. Horrified, he stared into the tea mug, afraid his brew was a truth serum.

Louis put his teacup down carefully on the table. “A person attacked you?”

“Well, he wasn't an alien,” Harry replied sardonically. He swallowed a gulp of tea. The heat warmed him, spreading through his body to reach sore, painful places.

“Why would one man want to kill another?” Louis mused aloud, brushing past Harry's sarcasm. “I've never understood that. Money is such a silly reason really. And it just seems such an extreme solution to a problem.”

“Most people don't think so.” He rubbed his head as if it hurt, or maybe in memory. “People kill for all sorts of reasons, Louis.”

“How awful for you. I hope he was caught.”

Before he could stop himself, Harry shook his head. Louis’ vivid gaze settled on his face, looked inside of him again until he wanted to curse. “I was able to get away, but my assistant-“ he stopped, corrected himself- “my friend wasn't so lucky.”

“Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry.”

“I don't want to think about it.” He couldn't. It was too close, too raw. Still in his nightmares, still in his heart and soul. He could hear the echoes of screams. He could see the pleading in Kyle Miller's eyes. He would carry that sight to his death, forever etched in his brain. At once the pain was almost too much to bear. He wept inside, his chest burning, his throat clogging with grief.

Louis reached across the table to place his fingertips on his head. The gesture seemed natural, casual even, and his touch was so light, Harry barely felt it. Yet he felt the results, like shooting stars bursting through his brain. Tiny electrical impulses that blasted away the terrible throbbing in his temples and the back of his neck.

Harry caught Louis' wrists, pulled his hands away from him. He was shaking and Louis could feel it. “Don't. Don't do that.” He released Louis immediately.

“I'm sorry, I should have asked first,” Louis said, startled slightly. “I was only trying to help you.” He sat back and assessed Harry. “Would you like me to take you home? It's already dark outside and it wouldn't be safe for you to try to go down the hill without adequate light.”

“So I take it the paint preservative is a deep dark family secret,” Harry said, attempting to lighten the situation. He drained the tea mug and stood up. “Yes, thanks, I wouldn't mind a ride.” It was hard on the ego to have to accept it, but he wasn't a complete fool. Could he have behaved any more like an idiot?

Louis' soft laughter startled him. “I actually don't know whether the preservative is a family secret or not. I'll have to do a little research on the subject and get back to you.” Harry couldn't help smiling just because Louis was. There was something contagious about Louis' laughter, something addictive about his personality.

“Did you know that when you came home, the wind actually whispered, 'Louis is back. Louis is home.'? I heard it myself.” The words slipped out, almost a tribute. Louis didn't laugh at him as he had expected. In fact, he looked pleased.

“What a beautiful thing to say. Thank you, Harry,” he said sincerely. He paused for a moment, then regarded Harry carefully. “Was the gate really open? The front gate, with all the artwork? Not the side gate?”

“Yes, it was standing wide open, welcoming me. At least that's how it felt.”

Louis' striking blue eyes drifted over Harry's face, taking in every detail, every line. Harry knew he wasn't much to look at. A man in his late thirties, battered and scarred by life. The scars didn't show physically, but they went deep and Louis could clearly see the tormented man.

“How very interesting. I think we're destined to be friends, Harold.” His voice wrapped Harry in silk and heat. He didn't even want to correct him calling him ‘Harold'. Coming from Louis, it sounded sultry.

Harry could see why the townspeople said his name with awe. With respect. Mysterious Louis. He seemed so open, yet his eyes held a thousand secrets. There was music in his voice and healing in his hands. “I'm glad you've come home, Louis,” Harry said, hoping he wasn't making more of a fool of himself.

“So am I,” he answered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Lovely to hear from some of you! Glad you're liking it so far! Here's chapter three! Something I didn't mention before, that I DEFINITELY should, is the age scenario here. Louis and his sisters ages are from 39 down to 31. They need to be so close in age for the storyline. Harry is 37. I kept personality traits and physical appearances, but changed a lot of other things, because obviously, the young ones are grown adults lol.
> 
> As always, HUGE thank you to my lovely beta, Belle, who says I can call her "A" for now. lol I feel very Pretty Little Liars. She's so awesome and reminds me to not spell things with European spelling lol. and she tells me I'm funny which always makes me happy. 
> 
> Again, I don't own anything, boys or books (i wish for both) and I don't know these people. Untrue events and I do not claim credit for the original work.

“Louis!” Daisy Tomlinson threw herself into her brother's arms. “It's so good to see you. I missed you so much.” She drew back, stretching her arms to full length, the better to examine Louis. “Why, Louis, you look like a cat burglar, ready to rob the local museum. I had no idea Joseph Mathews' paintings had become valuable.” She laughed merrily at her own joke.

Louis' soft laughter merged with Daisy's. “I should have known you'd come creeping in at two a.m. That's so you, Daisy. Where were you this time?”

“Egypt. What an absolutely beautiful country it is.” Daisy sat on the porch swing wearily. “But I'm wiped out. I've been traveling forever to get back home." She regarded Louis' sleek black outfit with a slight frown. “Interesting set of tools there you're sporting, brother of mine. I'm not going to have to bail you out of jail, am I? I'm really tired and if the police have to call, I might not wake up.”

Louis adjusted the belt of small tools slung on his waist without a hint of embarrassment. “If I can't charm a police officer out of booking me for a little break-in, I don't deserve the name Tomlinson. Go on in, Daisy, and go to bed. I'm worried about our neighbor and think I'll just go scout around and make certain nothing happens to him.”

Daisy's eyebrow shot up. “Good heavens, Louis. A man? There's an honest-to-God man in your life? Where is he? I want to go with you.” She clasped her hands together, her face radiant. “Wait until I tell the others. The mighty Louis has fallen!”

“I have _not_ fallen – don't start, Daisy. I just have one of my hunches and I'm going to check it out. It has nothing to do with Harry at all.”

“Ooh, this is really getting interesting. Harry. You remember his name. How did you meet him? Spill it, Louis, every last detail!”

“There's nothing to spill. He just waltzed in asking about paint and wood preservatives.” Louis' tone was cool and aloof. He picked an imaginary piece of fuzz off of his arm, trying to avoid Daisy's inquiring gaze.

“You want me to believe that he walked in on his own without an invitation? You had to have asked him to the house,” Daisy ducked her head in an attempt to make Louis look at her. He snapped up to argue back.

“No, I didn't,” Louis denied. “For your information, the gate was open and the dogs allowed him in.” He nodded matter-of-factly, with a slight smirk. Two seconds later it dropped when he realized what he had said.

“The gate was open?! On its own?!” Daisy was incredulous. “I'm going with you for certain!”

“No, you're not, you're exhausted, remember?”

Daisy ignored Louis, instead spinning in a lazy circle. “Wait until I tell the others the gate opened for him.” She raised her arms to the heavens and stars. “The gate opens for the right person, doesn't it? Isn't that how it works? The gate will swing open in welcome for the person who is destined to become the love of the eldest child's life.”

“I don't believe in that nonsense and you know it.” Louis tried to glare, but found himself laughing at Daisy gleefully dancing around the porch. “I can't believe you'd even think of that old prophecy.”

“Like you didn't think of it yourself,” Daisy teased, stopping her dance to point at him. “You're just going off to do the _neighborly_ thing in the _middle_ of the night and just sort of “scout” around his house.” She emphasized her sarcasm with air quotes, causing Louis to roll his eyes. “If you say so, of course I'll believe it. Is that telescope up on the battlement directed toward his bedroom?” Daisy finished, walking a few feet towards the screen door, a sparkle in her eye.

“Don't you dare look,” Louis ordered.

Daisy stopped her teasing, and turned to look directly at him. She studied his face. “You're laughing, but your eyes aren't. What's wrong, Louis?” She walked back and put her hand on her brother's shoulders. “Tell me.”

Louis frowned and sighed. “He carries Death on him. I've seen it. And he read it in the mosaic.” Louis dragged a hand over his face, massaging his jaw in thought. “I don't know whose death, but I'm drawn to him. His heart is broken and pierced through, and the weight of carrying Death is slowly crushing him. He saw a red ring around the moon.”

“Violence and death surround him,” Daisy said softly, almost to herself. “Why are you going alone?”

“I have to. I feel…” Louis searched for the right word. “Drawn. It's really the only word. I can't think of another way to describe how I feel. It's more than a job, Daisy. It's him.”

“He could be dangerous.” Daisy regarded him with cautious eyes.

“He's surrounded by danger, but if he's dangerous to me, it isn't in the way you're thinking.” Louis waved her off with a slight gesture, and Daisy scoffed.

“Oh my gosh, you really do like this guy. You think he's hot. I'm telling the others and I'm going up to the battlement to check him out!” Daisy turned and raced into the house, latching the screen door so Louis couldn't follow her.

Louis laughed as he blew a kiss in his sister's direction and started down the stairs. Daisy looked wonderful as always. Tall and tanned and beautiful even after traveling across the sea. If her hair was tousled, she just looked in vogue. Other women paid fortunes to try to achieve her natural wind-blown style. Louis had always been uncommonly proud of Daisy's genuine elegance. She had a bright spirit that shone like the stars overhead. Daisy had a free spirit that longed for wide-open spaces and the wonders of the world. She spoke several languages and travelled extensively. One month she might be found in the pages of a magazine with the jet-setters, the next she was on a dig in Cairo. Her tall, slender presence and incredibly beautiful face made her sought after by every magazine and fashion designer. It was her gentle personality that always drew people to her. Louis was happy she was home.

Louis made little sound as he made his way down the small deer path that cut through his property to Harry Styles'. He knew every inch of his own property. And he knew every inch of Harry's. He had tucked his hair inside a knit beanie, just to keep it from collecting leaves. His soft-soled shoes were light, allowing him to feel his way over twigs and dried leaves. He wasn't thinking about Harry's broad shoulders or his dark, tormented eyes. And he didn't believe in romance. Not for himself. That was for elegant Daisy or beautiful Erin. Well, maybe not the beautiful, _wild_ Erin, but definitely for most of his other sisters. Just not him.

Harry Styles was in trouble in more ways than he knew. Louis didn't like complications. Ancient prophecies and chocolate colored curls and black auras were definite complications. Moonlight spilled over the sea as he made his way along the cliffs, following the narrow deer path that eventually wound down the back side of Harry's property. The powerful waves boomed as they rushed and ebbed and collapsed in a froth of white. Louis found the sound of the sea soothing, even when it raged in a storm. He belonged there, had always belonged, as had his family before him. He didn't fear the sea or the wilds of the countryside, yet his heart was pounding in sudden alarm. Pounding with absolute knowledge.

He was not alone in the night. Instinctively he lowered his body so he wouldn't be silhouetted against the horizon. He used more care, blending into the shadows, using the foliage for cover. He moved with stealth. He was used to secrecy, a highly trained professional. There was no sound as the branches slid away from his tightly knit jumpsuit and his crepe-soled shoes eased over the ground.

Louis made his way to the outskirts of the house. He knew all about Harry Styles. One of the smartest men on the planet. A government's treasure. The one man-think tank that had come up with one of the most innovative defense systems ever conceived. His ideas were pure genius, far head of their time. He was a steady, focused man. A perfectionist who never overlooked the smallest detail.

When he read about Harry, before accepting the watchdog assignment, Louis had been impressed with the sheer tenacity of Harry's character. Now that he had met him, Louis ached for the man, for the horror of what he had been through. Louis never allowed his work to be personal, yet he couldn't stop thinking about Harry's eyes and the torment Louis could see in their dark depths. And Louis couldn't help but wonder why Death had attached itself to Harry and was clinging with greedy claws.

Louis rarely accepted such an assignment, but he knew his cover couldn't have been more perfect. Meant to be. That gave him a slight flutter of apprehension. Destiny, fate, whatever one wanted to call it, was a force to be reckoned with in his family and he had managed to avoid it carefully for years. Harry Styles had chosen his hometown to settle in. What did that mean? Louis didn't believe in such close coincidence.

He had no time to circle the house or check the coastal road. As he approached the side of the house facing his home, he heard a muffled curse coming from his left. Louis inched that way, dropped to his belly, lying flat out in the darker shadows of the trees. He lifted his head cautiously, only his eyes moving restlessly, continually, examining the landscape. It took a few moments to locate his adversaries.

Louis could make out two men, not more than forty feet from him, on the downhill, right in the middle of the densest brush. Louis had the urge to smile. He hoped for their sakes they were wearing their dogs' tick collars.

Lying in the drubs, Louis began a slow, complicated pattern with his hands, a flowing dance of fingers while the leaves rustled and twigs began to move as if coming alive. Tiny, silent creatures dropped from branches overhead, fell from leaves, and pushed up from the ground to migrate downhill towards the thickest brush.

Louis knew that the one window lit up in Harry's house was a bedroom. If the telescope set up on the battlements of his house happened to be pointed in that direction, it was only because it was the last room he had investigated. It just so happened that it was Harry's bedroom, a complete coincidence. _At least this time._ Louis' eyes widened at the thought that had sprang unbidden in his mind. He mentally shook himself, and glanced back at his house overlooking the pounding waves, suddenly worried that Daisy might have her eye glued to the lens.

He hissed softly, melodiously, an almost silent note of command the wind caught and carried skyward, toward the sea, toward the house on the cliff. The brush of material against wood and leaves attracted his immediate attention. He watched one of the men scuttle like a crab down the hill toward Harry's house, crouch just below the lit window, and then cautiously raised his head to look inside.

The window was raised a few inches to allow the ocean air inside. The breeze blew the kettle cloth drapes inward so that they performed a strange ghoulish dance. With the fluttering curtains, it was nearly impossible to get a clear glimpse of the interior. The man half stood, flattening his body against the wall, tilting his head to peer inside.

Louis could make out the second man lying prone, his rifle directed at the window. Slowly, Louis inched his way across the low grasses, moving with the wind as it blew over the land. The man with his rifle trained on the window never took his gaze from his target. Never flinched, the gun rock steady. A pro, then; Louis had expected it but had hoped otherwise. Louis could see the tiny insects crawling into his clothing.

Above his head, the clouds were drifting away from the moon, threatening to expose him completely. He wormed his way through the grass and brambles, gaining a few more feet. Louis pulled his gun from his shoulder holster.

Hearing a slight noise from inside the room, the assailant at the window put up his hand in warning. He peered in the window in an attempt to locate Harry. A solid thunk sounded loud as Harry's cane landed solidly on the man's jaw.

At once the man screamed, the high-pitched cry reverberating through the night. He fell backward onto the ground, holding his face, rolling and writhing in pain. Louis kept his gaze fixed on the partner with the rifle, who was waiting for Harry to expose himself at the window. Harry was too smart to do such an idiotic thing. The curtains continued their macabre dancing but nothing else stirred in the night. The moans continued from beneath the window but the assailant didn't get to his feet.

The rifleman crawled forward on his belly, slipping in the wet grass so that he rolled, protecting his rifle. It was the slip Louis was waiting for. He was on him immediately, pressing his gun to the back of his neck.

“I suggest you remain very still,” he said, softly. “You're trespassing on private property and we just don't like that sort of thing around here.” As he spoke, Louis kept a wary eye on the man by the window. He raised his voice. “Harry, have you called the sheriff? You've got a couple of night visitors out here that may need a place to stay for a few days and I heard the jail was empty tonight.”

“Is that you, Louis?”

“I was taking a little stroll and saw a high-powered rifle just kind of lying around in the dirt.” He kicked the rifle out of the captured man's hands. “It's truly a thing of beauty; I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to get a good look at it.” There was a hint of laughter in Louis' voice, but the muzzle of his gun remained very firmly pressed against his captive’s neck. “You should stay right there, Harry. There's two of them out here and they look a bit aggravated.” He leaned close to the man on the ground, but kept his eye on his partner by the window. “You might want to check yourself the minute you're in jail. You're probably crawling with ticks. Nasty little bugs, they burrow in, drink your blood, and pass on all sorts of interesting things, from staph to Lyme disease. That bush you were hiding in is lousy with them.”

His heart was still pounding out a rhythm of warning. Then he knew. Louis flung himself to his right, rolling away, even as he heard the whine of bullets zinging past him and thudding into the ground. Of course there had been a third man, a driver waiting in the darkness up the road. Louis had been unable to scout out the land properly. It made perfect sense they would have a driver, a backup should there be a need.

The man next to him scrambled up and dove on top of him, making a grab for Louis' gun. Louis managed to get one bent leg into his stomach and launch the man over his head. Louis felt his beanie come off as the man flew over. He swore viciously as he picked himself up and raced away from Louis toward the road. The one closest to the house was already in motion, staggering up the hill, still holding his jaw in his hands. The driver provided cover, pinning Louis down with a spray of bullets. The silencer indicated the men had no desire to announce their presence to the townspeople.

“Louis? You all right out there?” Harry called anxiously. Even with the silencer, he couldn't fail to hear the telltale sound of bullets.

“Yes.” Louis was disgusted with himself. He could hear the motor of the car roar to life, the wheels spinning in dirt for a moment before they caught. With a rev of the engine, the vehicle raced away down the coastal highway. “I'm sorry, Harry, I let them get away.”

“ _You're_ sorry! You could have been killed, Louis. And no, I didn't call the sheriff. I was hoping they were neighborhood kids looking to do a prank.”

“And I took you for such a brilliant man, too,” Louis teased, sitting up and pulling twigs out of his hair. He searched around for his beanie. One of his favorites.

The drapes rustled and Harry poked his head out the window. “Are we going to call back and forth or are you going to come in here and talk with me.” There was more demand than question in his voice.

Louis laughed softly. “Do you think that's such a good idea? Can you imagine what Barbara would say if she knew I was visiting with you in the middle of the night?” He reached for the rifle, giving up looking for his beanie. “She'd ask you your intentions. You'd have to deny you had any. The word would spread that you'd ruined me and I'd be pitied. I couldn't take that. Its better I just slink home quietly.”

Harry leaned farther out the window. “Damn it, Louis, I'm not amused. You could have been killed. Do you even understand that?” He glared at Louis. His hand jutted out in a pointed gesture at the landscape. “These men were dangerous and you're out taking a little stroll in the moonlight and playing neighborhood cop.” Harry's voice was harsher than he intended, but Louis had scared the hell out of him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling sick at the thought of Louis in danger.

“I wasn't in any danger, Harry,” Louis assured him. “This rifle, in case you're interested, has tranqs in it, not bullets. At least they weren't trying to kill you, they wanted you alive.”

Harry sighed. Louis was just sitting there on the ground with the sliver of moonlight spilling over him. The rifle was lying across his knees and he was smiling at him, and it was enough to stop a man's heart. Harry took a good look at Louis' clothes, at the gun still in his hand. He stiffened, as it dawned on him, and swore softly. “Damn you anyway, Tomlinson. I should have known you were too good to be true!”

“Were you believing all the stories about me, after all, Harry?” Louis asked. But dread was beginning to course through him even though it shouldn't. It mattered what Harry thought of him. Or what he knew. And damn it all, Louis had a job. It shouldn't matter, yet he felt the weight in his chest, heavy like a stone. Louis felt a sudden fear crawling in his stomach of losing something special before it even started.

“Who sent you, Louis? And don't lie to me. Whom do you work for?” Harry pointed a finger at him, accusation deep in his eyes.

“Did you really think they were going to let you walk away without any kind of protection after what happened, Harry?” Louis kept the sympathy from his voice, knowing it would only anger Harry farther.

Harry sore bitterly. “I told them I wasn't going to be responsible for another death. Get the hell off my property, Louis, and don't you come back.” Something deep inside Harry unexpectedly hurt like hell. He had just met him. The hope hadn't even fully developed, only in his heart, not his mind, but he still felt it. It was a betrayal and his Louis, mysterious Louis with his beautiful smile and his lying eyes, had broken Harry before he'd even managed to find himself.

“I can assure you, Mr. Styles, I am very capable of doing my job.” Deliberately, he tried to refocus the argument, putting stiff outrage in his tone.

“I don't care how good you are at your damned job or anything else. Get off my property before I call the sheriff and have you arrested for trespassing.” Harry slammed the window closed with a terrible finality. The light went off as if somehow that would cut off all communication between them.

Louis sat on the ground and stared at the darkened window with a heavy heart. The sea rolled and boomed with a steadiness that never ceased. The wind tugged at his hair and the clouds drifted above his head. He drew up his knees and contemplated the fact that old prophecies should never be passed from generation to generation. That way, one could never be disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I realize this is just sort of leaving you hanging, but next update soon! As always, comment! leave kudos! I love it all! xo


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always I don't own any of this. boys, books, ideas. just joining the wonderful world of 1d and Sea Haven.
> 
> My FABULOUS "A" has been so amazing. She just has such great ideas and I am so so grateful to her for everything.

Louis didn't bother to knock politely on the locked door. Harry was hurt and angry and he didn't really blame him. Louis was nearly as confused as Harry was. Curses on old prophesies that insisted on messing up lives. If they'd been two people meeting casually everything would have been alright. But no, the gate had to stand open in welcome. It was neither of their faults, but how was Louis going to explain a two-hundred-year-old foretelling? How was he going to tell Harry that his family came from a long line of powerful women who drew power from the universe around them and that prophecies several hundreds of years old _always_ came true?

Louis did the only thing any self-respecting man would do in the middle of the night. He pulled out his small set of tools and picked the front door lock. He made a mental note to install a decent security system in Harry's house and lecture him about at least buying a dead bolt in the interim.

As a child, Louis had often played in the house and he knew its layout almost as well as he knew his own. Louis moved swiftly through the living room. He saw very little furniture although Harry had moved in well over a month earlier. No pictures were on the wall, nothing to indicate it was a home, not just a temporary place to dwell.

Harry lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. He had started out seething, but there was too much fear to sustain it. Louis had nearly walked into an ambush. It didn't matter that he had been sent to be Harry's watchdog, he could have been killed. It didn't bear thinking about. Louis. Shrouded in mystery. How could he fixate on a man so quickly when he rarely noticed anyone? If he closed his eyes he could see Louis. There was a softness about him, a quality that appealed to him on every level. He would probably laugh if he knew Harry had an unreasonable and totally mad desire to protect him.

Harry bit out another quiet oath, not certain he could force himself to pick up and leave again. Where could he go? This was the end of the earth and yet somehow they have found him after all these months. No one would be safe around him.

“Do you always lie in the dark on your bed and swear at the ceiling?” Louis asked quietly. “Because that could become a real issue later on in our relationship.”

Harry opened his eyes to stare up him. Louis. Real. In his bedroom dressed in a skintight black suit that clung to every curve. Harry's mouth watered and every cell in his body leapt to life in reaction. “It happens at those times I've been betrayed. I don't know, really, a knee-jerk reaction I can't seem to stop.”

Louis looked around for a chair, couldn't find one, and shoved Harry's legs over to make room on the bed. “Betrayal can be painful. In all honesty, I haven't had the experience. My sisters guard my back, so to speak.” Louis turned the full power of huge blue eyes on him. “Do you believe that having friends insist on your protection is a betrayal?”

Harry could hear the sincerity in Louis' voice. “You don't understand.” How could he? How could anyone? “They had no right to hire you, Louis. I quit my job, retired, if you want it neat and tidy. I have no intention of ever going back again. I cut all ties with that job and every branch of the military and the private sector.”

"You tried to keep everyone around you safe by leaving,” Louis stated rather than asked. He already knew the answer. Harry claimed that he didn't get along with anyone, but the guilt etched in Harry's face and the regret laced in his tone while he spoke of the past indicated otherwise. Harry would think Louis was crazy if he had told him that he carried Death with him. "What happened, Harry?"

“Didn't they give you a three-inch-thick file to read on me before they sent you here?” Harry demanded, trying to sustain his anger with him. Louis simply waited, allowing the silence to lengthen and stretch between them. Sometimes silence was more eloquent than words. Harry was tense, his body rigid next to Louis; his fingers curled into a tight fist around the comforter. Louis laid his hand gently over Harry's.

Harry could have resisted most anything, but not that silent gesture of camaraderie. He twisted his hand around until his fingers laced through Louis'. “They hit us about five blocks from work. Kyle Miller was with me. We planned to have dinner and go back to work. We both wanted to see if we could work out a glitch with a minor problem we were having with the project.” Harry chose his words carefully. He no longer worked for the government, but his work had been classified.

“They beat us both nearly unconscious before they threw us in the trunk. They didn't even pretend to want our money. They drove to a warehouse, an old paint factory, and demanded information on a project we just couldn't safely give them.”

Louis felt Harry's hand tremble. He'd read the hospital report. Both men had been tortured. He knew Harry carried the scars from numerous burns on his torso. “I couldn't give them what they wanted and poor Kyle had no idea what they were even talking about.” He pressed his fingertips to his eyes as if the pressure would stop the pain. Stop the memory that never left him. “He never even worked on the project they wanted information about.”

Louis knew that Kyle Miller had been shot in the knee and then again in the head, killing him. Harry had refused to turn over classified information that could have resulted in the deaths of several field agents. And he had steadfastly refused to give up the newest defense system. Harry started a fire with paint thinners, nearly blowing up the building. In his escape attempt he was crushed between the wall of the warehouse and the grille of a car, severely damaging his hip and leg.

“I don't want friends, Louis. No one can afford to be my friend.”

Louis knew he spoke the truth. Death clung and searched for victims. He wouldn't tell him, but often Death felt cheated. If that were the case, it would demand a sacrifice before it would be appeased. “Does the company know who these people are?” Louis prompted.

Harry's dark gaze was haunted. “You would know that better than I would. Enemies of our country. Mercenaries. Hell, who cares? They wanted something my brain conceived, bad enough to kill an innocent man for it. I don't want to create anything worth killing over again. So here I am.”

“Did you talk to anyone? A doctor?”

Harry laughed, but there was a bitterness to it. “Of course I did. The company made certain I talked to one, especially after I announced my retirement. There were a few loose ends and they didn't want me leaving. I didn't much care what they wanted.” He turned his head. Edgy. Brooding. “Is it part of your job to try and get me to go back?”

Louis shook his head. “I don't tell people what to do, Harry. I don't believe in that.” His mouth curved. “Well,” he hedged, “I guess that's not altogether true. There is the exception of my sisters. They expect me to boss them around, though, because I'm the oldest. I'm very good at bossing.” His last sentence was said with a very haughty tone, but his eyes were sparkling. Harry’s eyes, however, darkened and he tried to shift around as nonchalantly as possible to hide the _untimely_ hard on that had decided to make an appearance at the prospect of Louis bossing _him_ around.

In an attempt to avoid Louis’ gaze, Harry glanced toward the window, noticing a slight flutter in the curtains, allowing the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks to drift in. Hadn't he closed that? Maybe it hadn't shut all the way. It wasn't open far, and the curtains were still mostly closed.

“Did you want to come back here, Louis?” he asked, looking back at Louis. The sound of the sea _was_ soothing. It did sound like home.

“More than anything.” Louis tore his gaze away from Harry and glanced at the open window. “I've felt the pull of the ocean for a while now. I've always known I'd come back home and settle here. I just don't know when I'm going to manage it.” He turned away from the window and focused back on Harry. “Harry, your house has no security whatsoever. Did it occur to you they could waltz in here and grab you again?”

Harry tried not to read too much into that worried note in Louis’ voice. Tried not to think that it was personal. “It's been months. I thought they would leave me alone.”

Louis whistled softly. “You even lie with that straight pretty face and those angelic eyes. I'm taking notes. That one is right up there with swearing at the ceiling.” He had one eyebrow cocked at Harry and his fingers were tapping a rhythm out on the comforter. “You wanted them to come after you, didn't you?” It was a shrewd guess. Louis hadn't known him long enough to judge his character yet, but he'd read the files thoroughly and every word portrayed a relentless, tenacious man, focused on his goals at all times.

“Wouldn't you? They forced me to make a choice between information that is vital to our nation, and my friend's life.” Harry looked at him obstinately. “He was looking at me when they shot him, Louis. I'll never forget the way he looked at me.” He rubbed his throbbing temple. The vision haunted his dreams and brought him out of sound sleep so that he sat up, heart pounding, screaming a denial to the uncaring night.

“What kind of plan do you have?” Harry felt his stomach knot up. Louis' tone was very interested. He expected a plan. Harry had a reputation of being a brain. He _should_ have a plan. His plan had been to draw his enemies to him and dispose of them; first with his cane and _then_ he'd call the sheriff. He doubted if Louis would be impressed.

Louis sighed. “Harry, tell me you did have a plan.”

“Just because you walk on water doesn't mean everyone else does,” he muttered.

“Who told you I walked on water?” Louis demanded, annoyed. “For heaven's sake, I only did it once and it was just showing off. All my sisters can do the same thing.”

Harry gaped at him, his eyes wide with shock. Louis kept a straight face, but the laughter in his eyes gave him away. Harry did the noble thing and shoved him off the bed. Louis landed on the floor, his soft laughter inviting Harry to join in.

“You so deserved that,” he said. “You really did. Walk on water. That's a new one. Where did you hear that? And you believed it, too.”

Harry turned on his side, propped up on one elbow to look down at Louis. “I started the rumor myself at Barbara's store. For a minute there, I thought I was psychic.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Louis said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Now all the kids will be asking me to show them. The next time you come calling I'm going to sic the dogs on you.”

“What makes you think I'm going to come calling?” Harry asked, curiously.

Louis leaned his head against the bed. “Do you have any family, Harry?” he asked, ignoring Harry's question quite obviously.

“I have an older sister, but,” he hesitated, fingers playing with the comforter “but I don’t actually know where she is right now. She's always traveling.” There was something off about his voice, but Louis didn’t press it. Harry continued, “We email often though. My parents died years ago, first my father, than six months later my mother. They were wild about each other.”

“Were you close with your sister growing up?” Louis asked.

Harry smiled. “Yes. Two peas in a pod. We are still close. Just not physically.”

“How strange to only have one sibling. How quiet the house must have been,” Louis mused. “I can't imagine what that would be like.” He grinned. “Although I wouldn't change my childhood for anything. Loud and wild as we Tomlinson's are, we're a tight bunch.”

Harry's fingers crept of their own accord to find the feathery strands of Louis' hair. It was slightly matted, but he managed to rub a few soft strands between his thumb and finger. How the hell did Louis manage to get his hair so damn soft? Mysterious Louis. Harry was fast beginning to think of him as _his_ Louis. “Do you like them all?”

Louis smiled there in the darkness. He loved his sisters. There was no question about that, but no one had ever thought to ask if he liked them. “Very much, Harry. You would, too. Each of them is unique and gifted in her own way. All of them have a great sense of humor. We laugh a lot at our house.” Harry was tugging at his hair. It didn't hurt, in fact it was a pleasant sensation, but it was causing little butterfly wings to flutter in the pit of his stomach. “What are you doing?”

“I snagged my watch in it, and got it messed up getting it out, so I thought I'd just comb it out,” he answered casually. He was lying and he didn't even care that it was a lie and that Louis knew it was a lie. Any excuse to continue to card his fingers through the caramel softness.

Louis laughed softly. “Oh it did, did it?” Harry was definitely full on combing through his hair now. “I think it was already messy due to the hat I was wearing and lost outside. I wish I could find it. It's a favorite.”

“We will look when it's light out.”

Louis was absurdly pleased that Harry had said, “we”. So silly. “Thank you.” He tapped his fingers on his knee, trying to find a way to get Harry to agree with him on his protection. “Harry, it's important to protect your house. I could set up a good security system for you. I'll let the sheriff know we have a problem and they'll help us out.”

“Us? Louis, you really should be as far away from me as possible.” Even as he said it, both of Harry’s hands started to play with Louis' hair, a hopeless compulsion he couldn't prevent. He was wondering if Louis' skin was as soft as his hair.

“I thought you were supposed to be brilliant, Harry.” Louis’ voice was edged with laughter. “Didn't I read in your file that you were one of the smartest men on the face of the earth? Along with your swearing issues and apparent hair obsession, please tell me you don't have idiot macho tendencies, too. If that's the case, I'm going to have to seriously study this gate prophecy. I can live with the other things, but idiocy might be stretching my patience.”

Harry tugged on Louis' hair to make certain he was paying attention. “ _One_ of the smartest men? Is that what the report said?” Harry gave another insistent tug on Louis’ hair, eliciting a small hiss from Louis. “I should read the file over for you and weed out the blatant lies. I'm certain I'm _the_ smartest, not _one_ of the smartest. You don't have to insult me by pretending the report said otherwise. And what is the gate prophecy?”

Louis waved away his inquiry. “I'll have to tell you about the Tomlinson history sometime, but right now, I think you might clear up the idiot macho issue for me,” he insisted. “Brainy men tend to be arrogant, but they shouldn't be stupid. I'm a security expert, Harry.”

He sighed loudly. “So I'm supposed to tell all my friends that I'm in a relationship with my bodyguard.”

“Do we have a relationship?” Louis tilted his head to look back at him. “And surely the smartest man on earth would be fine having a bodyguard. Relationship or no.”

“Well, relationship or no, having someone I care about as my bodyguard throws all kinds of flags up for me. We need to call in an expert on this subject; consult a counselor before we make a decision. And it never hurts to get a second opinion if we don't like the first one.”

Harry couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. It felt good to smile. Louis had thrown his life into complete confusion, but he made Harry smile. Made him want to laugh. Intrigued him. Turned him inside out. Gave him a reason to live. And the heavy weight that seemed to be pressing down on his shoulders and chest was lifted for just a few moments.

Meanwhile Louis was playing the words ‘someone I care about’ playing over and over in his head. He grinned back. “You won't have to worry on that score, Harry. We'll have six very loud and long-winded second opinions. My sisters will have more to say than you'll ever want to hear on the subject. For that matter, on every subject. You won't need a counselor for anything; they'll all be happy to oblige, absolutely free of charge.”

Louis glanced toward the cliff house. Through the bedroom window that should have had the drapes closed. The curtains were parted in the middle, ushered to either side by an unseen hand.

“Louis.” There was an ache in Harry's voice. His heart did a funny little jump in his chest and Louis turned his head to look at Harry. Their gazes collided. Stark hunger was in Harry's eyes. Raw need. Desire. Harry reached for him, caught the nape of his neck, and slowly lowered his head to Louis. He fastened their mouths together, and they simply melded. Merged.

Fireworks might have burst in the air around them. Or maybe it was the stars scattering across the sky, glittering like gems. Fire raced up Louis’ skin, heat spread through his body. Harry claimed him. Branded him. And he did a thorough job of it. They fed on one another. Were lost in smoky desire. His mouth was perfect, hot and hungry and demanding and possessive.

No one had ever kissed Louis like that. He'd never thought it would be like that. He wanted to stay there all night and just _kiss_. Harry shifted his weight on the bed, deepening the kiss. He tumbled over the edge, sprawling on the floor, pulling Louis over so that he collapsed on top of him. Instantly his arms circled Louis and held him to his chest.

Louis could feel the laughter rumble deep inside Harry, where it started in him. They lay in a tangle of arms and legs, laughing happily. He lifted his head to look at Harry, to trace his wonderful mouth with a fingertip. “Sheer magic, Harry. That's what you are. Does this happen every time you kiss men?”

“I don't kiss men,” Harry admitted, shaken to his very core. His fingers were back in Louis' hair, and he wanted to bury his face in it.

“Well, women, then. Does it happen all the time? Because quite frankly it's amazing. You're truly amazing.”

The laughter welled up all over again. Harry helped Louis sit up, his back to against the bed. He sat next to him. Both of them stared out the window toward the cliff house.

“I swear those drapes were closed,” Harry commented.

“They probably were,” Louis admitted with a small sigh. “It's the sisters. My sisters. They're probably watching us right this minute. Daisy came home right before I left, and Charlotte and Félicité - you can call them Lottie and Fizzy - arrived about the time the driver was shooting at me. You could wave at them if you felt up to it.”

“How are they watching us?” Harry asked, interested. He didn't even question that they had somehow moved the curtains without even being in the same house.

“The telescope. I use it to watch the sky,” Louis used his most pious voice, “and sometimes the ocean, but my sisters are notoriously and pathetically interested in _my_ business. I shall have to teach them some manners.” He waved his hand casually, murmuring something Harry couldn't quite catch, but it sounded light and airy and melodious.

Shadows entered the room. Moved. Drapes swayed gently, blocked the sliver of moon, the faint light reflected by the pounding sea. Harry blinked; in that split second the curtains were drawn dimly across the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next update towards the end of the week!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I don't own any of this, boys, books or ideas. My fantastic "A" and I seem to be good at uploading over weekends, so that's our plan. She, as usual, is my light and muse and continues to humour me. Hope everyone continues to enjoy! xo

“You were kissing that man,” Daisy accused gleefully. “Louis Tomlinson, you brazen hussy. You were kissing a perfect stranger.”

Louis looked as cool as possible under fire. “I don't know what you thought you saw with your eye glued to the telescope lens, but certainly not that! You ought to be ashamed of yourself spying that way. And using…” He trailed off to motion in the air with his fingers, glaring at all three of his sisters as he did so. “To open the curtains to a private bedroom is an absolute no-no, which we all agreed on when we set down the rules.”

“There are exceptions to the rules,” Lottie pointed out, demurely. She was curled up in a straight-backed wooden chair at the table, her knees drawn up, with a wide, engaging grin on her face as she painted her toenails.

“What exceptions?” Louis demanded, his hands on his hips.

Lottie shrugged and blew on her toenails before answering. “When our brother is hanging out with a man with a black aura around him.” She raised her head to look at Louis, her gaze steady. “That's very dangerous and you know it. You can't play around with Death. Not even you, Louis.”

Louis turned to glare at Daisy. He didn't want to talk about it, or even name Death, afraid if he gave it substance, he would increase its power, so he remained silent.

Daisy shook her head. “It wasn't me ratting you out. You left the tea leaves in the cup and it was there for everyone to read.”

“You still had no right to go against the rules without a vote.” Louis was fairly certain he'd lost the argument, but he wasn't going down without a fight. They were right about Death. Just the idea of facing it made him shiver inside. If he wasn't so drawn to Harry, he would have backed away and allowed nature to take its course. For some unexplained reason, he couldn't bear the thought of Harry suffering.

Lottie smirked. “Don't worry, we made certain to convene a hasty meeting and vote on whether or not the situation called for the use of power. It was fully agreed upon that it was wholly warranted.”

“You convened a meeting?” Louis glared at them all with righteous indignation. “Without me? Without the others? The three of you don't make up the majority.” A slow smile crept onto his face. “Oh, you are in so much trouble!” he said triumphantly.

Daisy blew him a kiss, sweetly reasonable. “Of course we didn't do that, Louis. We contacted everyone on the spot. It was perfectly legit. We told them about the gate and how it opened on its own for him. And how the dogs greeted him.” The smile dropped from Louis' face, replaced by defeat. Daisy grinned at him and continued, “Doris sent hugs and kisses and says she misses you. Erin wanted to come home right away and get in on the fun, but she's tied up.” She frowned. “I hope not literally, I didn't think to ask and you never know with Erin.” She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. “And Phoebe is working in Guatemala or some other place she's discovered with no bathroom and probably leeches, healing sick children as usual.”

“I thought she was in Africa investigating that crawlie thing that was killing everyone when they tried to harvest their crops,” Lottie said.

“Wherever she is, Phoebe agreed totally we needed to make certain Louis was safe,” Daisy looked innocent. “That's all we were doing, Louis. Everyone agreed that for your safety we needed to see into that bedroom immediately.”

Lottie and Fizzy burst into laughter again. “I was a bit worried when he got so exuberant he fell on the floor,” Fizzy said, between breaths of laughter. “But clearly you weren't in a life-threatening situation so we left you to it.”

“And boy, did you go to it,” Lottie added, the teasing note in her voice extremely prominent. “Really, Louis, a little less enthusiasm on your part might have gone a long way toward giving some credence to our chasing-men theory.” The three sisters exchanged nods as if research were very important.

Struggling not to laugh, Louis tapped his foot, hands on hips, looking at their unrepentant faces. “You knew I wasn't in any danger, you peeping Tomasinas. Shame on the lot of you! I'll have you know I was _working_ last night.”

That brought another round of laughter that nearly tipped Lottie right out of the chair. “A _working_ boy!” she said in shrieking laughter.

“Is that what you crazy kids are calling it these days?” Daisy questioned, her eyes sparkling in joy. “You were definitely working at _something_ , Louis,” she added.

“He's a _fast_ worker,” Fizzy added, giggling behind her hand.

Louis' mouth twitched with effort to remain straight-faced. “I do security work, you horrible hags. I'm his _bodyguard_!”

At that, Lottie _did_ fall off the chair laughing, holding her stomach. Daisy slumped over the table, her elegant body gracefully posed. “You were guarding his body all right, Louis,” Fizzy said, just managing to get the words out through the giggles.

“ _Closely_ guarding his body,” Lottie contributed, from her new perch on the floor.

“Locked those lips up nice and safe,” Daisy agreed, making a locking motion in front of her lips. “Ooh, Louis, baby, you are _great_ at that job.”

Louis' only recourse was to fall back on dignity. They weren't listening to their big brother's voice of _total authority_ at their antics. He drew himself up, looked as haughty as he could with the three of them rolling around together, laughing like hyenas. “Go ahead and howl, but the three of you just might want to read that old prophecy. Read the _entire_ thing, not just to the first line or two,” he finished, crossing his arms and smirking.

The smile faded from Daisy's face. “Louis' looking awfully smug. Where is that old book anyway?”

Fizzy sat up straight. “Louis Tomlinson, you didn't dare cast on us, did you?”

“I don't cast,” Louis said, looking at her, eyebrows raised. “That's Daisy's department. Harry is coming over. I wanted him to meet you.” He looked suddenly vulnerable. “I really like him. We talked all night about everything. You know those uncomfortable silences with strangers who can't possibly understand us? We didn't have _one_ of them. He's so worn out from carrying Death. Of course, he doesn't know that's what he's doing and if he did, he would have sent me away immediately.”

“Oh, Louis.” Daisy's voice was filled with compassion.

“I have to find a way to help him. He couldn't bear another death on his hands. His friend was killed, but he managed to save himself.” He brushed a hand across his forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes, looking at his sisters with desperation. “I liked everything about him. There wasn't a subject we skipped. And we laughed together over everything.” He lifted his gaze to his sisters. “I really, really like him,” he quietly finished.

“Then we'll like him, too,” Lottie reassured him. “And we'll find a way to help him.” She opened the refrigerator and peered in, pulling at drawers. “Did you get fresh veggies?”

“Of course, and plenty of fruit. By the way, congratulations on your latest release. I read it cover to cover and it was wonderful. As always, Lotts, your stories are fantastic,” Louis praised sincerely. “And thank you,” he said, sending her a look of love and appreciation.

Fizzy hugged Lottie. “My favorite memories are when we were little and we used to lie on the balcony looking up at the stars, with you telling us your stories. You deserve all those bestseller lists.”

Lottie kissed her sister. “And you aren't prejudiced at all.”

“Even if we were,” Daisy said, “you're still the best storyteller ever born and deserve every award and list you get on.”

Lottie blushed, turning nearly as red as the highlights in her blonde hair. She looked pleased. “They aren't even my stories. The Hollywood elite just like to share their tales with whoever will listen. Besides, how did the spotlight get turned on me? Louis is the one who spent the night with a perfect stranger.”

“I had to spend the night with him,” Louis insisted. “There's no security at his house. And I've asked Justin Montgomery to drop by this morning to meet Harry.”

All three women groaned in unison. “How could you invite that Neanderthal to our home, Louis?” Daisy demanded.

“He's the local sheriff,” Louis pointed out. “Come on, all that was a long time ago – we were kids.”

“He was a total jerk to me and he still is,” Daisy said.

The mug, filled with coffee, on the table in front of her began to steam. Daisy looked down and saw the liquid was beginning to boil. Hastily she blew on the surface.

There was a small silence. “Fine!” Daisy exploded. “I'll admit he still makes me mad if I just think about him. And if he calls me Baby Doll or Barbie Doll, I'm turning him into a big fat toad. He already is one; he may as well look like it.”

“You can't turn the sheriff into a toad, Daisy, it's against the rules,” Fizzy reminded her. “Give him a doughnut gut or a nervous twitch.”

“That's not good enough,” Lottie chimed in. “You need imagination to pay that man back. Something much more subtle - like every time he goes to lie to a woman to get her in bed, he blurts out the truth or tells them what a hound dog he is.”

“I'll do worse than that,” Daisy threatened, “I'll make it so he's lousy in bed! Mister Macho Man, the bad boy who couldn't do anything but make fun of me in school. He thinks he's such a lady's man.”

“Daisy.” Louis heard the pain in his sister's voice and spoke gently. “You were then, and still are now, so incredibly beautiful and brainy. No one could ever conceive of you being so painfully shy. You hid it well. No one knew you threw up before school every day or that we had to work combined spells to keep you functioning in public situations. They wouldn't know you still have problems. You've faced those fears by doing things that terrify you and you're always successful. Outsiders see your beauty and brains and success. They don't see what you're hiding in private.”

“Someone's coming up the path,” Lottie said without looking away from Daisy. She held out her hand to her sister. “We're all so proud of you, Daisy. Who cares what Justin thinks?”

“It's not Justin, although he's close by somewhere,” Fizzy said. “I think its Louis' gate crasher. You know, the one he spent the night with. I still can't get over that, and Doris says she is gonna need some details when you get a chance.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “There are no intimate details,” he objected, exasperated. “I'm going to install a security system for him. Lottie, don't let them read your books anymore, they're giving them wild imaginations of fantastical Hollywood romances.”

“It wasn't our imaginations that he was kissing you,” Daisy pointed out gleefully. “We _saw_ you!”

“And you were kissing him back,” Fizzy added.

“Well, that part wasn't altogether my fault!” Louis defended. “He's a _great_ kisser. What could I do but kiss the man back?”

The siblings looked at one another solemnly and burst out laughing simultaneously. The dog curled up in the corner lifted his head and whined softly to get their attention.

“He's here, Louis, and the gate must have opened for him a second time,” Lottie said, intrigued. “I really have to take a long look at the Tomlinson history book. I want to see _exactly_ what that prophecy says. How strange that something written hundreds of years ago applies to us even in this modern day and age.”

“Lottie, sweetie,” Fizzy said. “Every age thinks it’s progressive and modern, but in reality we're going to be considered backwards someday.”

“He's on the verandah,” Lottie announced and hurried to the front door.

Her siblings trailed after her. Louis' heart began to race. Harry was not the kind of man he had ever considered being attracted to, yet he couldn't stop thinking about him. He thought a lot about his smile, the way two small dents appeared near the corners of his mouth. He had dimples that nearly killed Louis whenever he smiled. He had the kind of smile that inviting drugging kisses, hot, melting together….

“Louis!” Daisy hissed his name. “The temperature just went up a hundred degrees in here. You know you can't think like that around us. Sheesh! One day with this man and your entire moral code has collapsed.”

Louis considered arguing, but he didn't have much of a defense. If Harry hadn't been such a gentleman and stopped at just kissing, Louis might have made love to him. All right, he _would_ have made love to him. He _should_ have made love to him. He lay awake all night, hot and bothered and edgy with need. Damn the man for having chivalrous manners anyway. He smiled and touched his mouth with a feeling of awe.

Harry had kissed him most of the night. Delicious, wonderful, sinfully rich kisses…

“Louis!” All three of his sisters reprimanded him at once.

He grinned at them repentantly. “I can't help it; he just affects me that way.”

“Well try not to throw yourself at him,” Fizzy urged. “It's so unbecoming in a Tomlinson. Dignity at all times when it comes to men.”

Daisy was looking out the window. She wrinkled her nose. “Lottie, when you open the door for Harry, do let the dogs out for their morning romp. They've been cooped up all night, the poor things.”

Lottie nodded and obediently waved the dogs through as she greeted Harry. “How nice to see you, Mr. Styles. Louis has told us so much about you.”

The dogs rushed past Harry. He leaned heavily on his cane, watching the large animals charge the sheriff, who was making his way up the path. Just as the man reached the gate, it swung closed with a loud bang. The dogs hit it hard, growling, baring their teeth, and digging frantically in an effort to get at their prey.

“This isn't funny, Daisy!” Justin yelled. “I was _invited_ by your brother and I showed up as a favor. Stop being so childish and call off your hounds.”

Daisy smiled sweetly at Harry and held out her hand. “Pay no attention to the toad, Mr. Styles; he comes around every now and then playing with his little gun, thinking he's going to impress the natives.” She yawned, covering her mouth delicately. “It's so boring and childish, but we have to humor him.”

Louis whistled sharply and the dogs instantly ceased growling, backing away from the fence to return to the house. When the animals were safely by his side, the gate swung open invitingly and the sheriff stalked through, his face a grim mask, his slashing gaze fixed on Daisy.

“What happens if you don't humor him?” Harry asked.

“Why, he throws his power around harassing us with tickets for speeding,” Daisy said, holding her ground, her chin up.

“You _were_ speeding, Daisy. Did you think I was going to let you off just because you're beautiful?” The sheriff shook hands with Harry. “Justin Montgomery, the only sane one when it comes to Baby Doll's true character.”

Daisy flashed him a brilliant smile. Her siblings moved closer to her, _protectively_ , Harry thought. “Why not, Sheriff? All the other cops _always_ let me off.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

Lottie and Fizzy let out a collective soft sigh.

“You gave my sister a ticket?” Louis asked, outraged. “Justin, you really are a self-centered toad. Why can't you just leave her alone? It's so high school to keep up grudges. Get over it.”

“She was the one speeding like a teenager,” Justin pointed out. “Aside from feeding me to your dogs, did you have a real reason for inviting me up here?”

Taunting laughter floated back to them. “Don't flatter yourself, Justin; nobody _wants_ you here.”

As Justin stepped into the house, the ivy hanging from the ceiling swayed precariously and a thick ropy vine slapped him in the back of his head. Justin spun around, his hands up as if to fight. He shoved the plant away from him and stormed into the living room, muttering foul curses beneath his breath. Harry was behind him and stopped immediately, looking warily around the room, then back to the ivy. “Do your plants eat your visitors often?” he asked with grave curiosity as he pushed the vine away from him with his cane. Gingerly he walked around the masses of greenery.

“Only the ones who are mean to my sisters,” Louis replied.

Without warning, startling both of them, Harry suddenly reached out, caught Louis by the nape of his neck, and dragged him into his body. Harry's mouth fastened to Louis' hungrily, Louis melting into him. Merging. Becoming liquid fire. Going up in flames. His arms crept around his neck. The cane dropped to the floor and they were devouring each other. The world fell away until there was only Harry and Louis and raging need.

“ _Louis!_ ” The name shimmered in the air, breaking them apart so that they just stood, clinging, staring into each other's eyes, drowning. Shocked.

Louis blinked, trying to focus, then looked around and blushed when he saw Justin gaping. “Close your mouth, Montgomery,” he commanded, his tone daring him to make a comment. He'd known Justin all his life. Of course he wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity. Louis waited, cringing.

“Holy shit.” Justin held out his hand to Harry. “You're a god. Kissing a Tomlinson is dangerous; kind of like taking a chance on kissing a viper. You just dove right in and went for it.” He pumped Harry's hand with great enthusiasm.

“Ha ha.” Louis glared at the sheriff. “Don't you start, and don't you spread any rumors either, Justin. I'm already annoyed with you for giving Daisy a ticket.”

The smile faded from the sheriff's face. “I don't think because a woman is drop dead gorgeous she should be treated any differently. She has everything too easy, Louis. You all treat her like a little baby doll.”

“You don't know Daisy at all, Justin, and you don't deserve to know her. She wouldn't expect you to let her slide because of her looks, you idiot.” Louis threw his hands in the air. “Forget it, I'm finished trying to explain anything to you. If you don't understand friendship by now, you never will. Let's get on with this. Harry and I have a busy schedule today.” He gestured towards a chair.

Justin was looking toward the stairs.

“Sit!” Louis demanded. “This is business. Murder. Right up your alley, Montgomery.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! You have "A" to thank for this double upload weekend. She was just so quick with the proofing. She's just SO GREAT.
> 
> As you all know, I don't own any of this. Boys, books or ideas. ENJOY!!

Justin listened calmly while Louis told him the events that had taken place the night before. His dark features hardened perceptively while Louis talked. He flicked a smoldering glare toward Lottie and Fizzy.

“Why wasn't I called last night? I might have been able to do something last night. Damn it, Louis, where's your head? You could have been killed!”

“Well, I wasn't. I saved the rifle for you. Hoping you might get prints off of it, but I doubt it.” Louis smiled at him.

Justin shook his head. “Don't do that; you've been giving me that same smile since kindergarten and it always gets you out of trouble.” He gestured towards Louis' face. “Take a long look at him, Harry, because that's going to be his answer every time he does something you don't like.” He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes slashing at Louis. “What about your sisters? Did it even occur to you that you might bring these people down on your own house?”

Furious, he rose, a big man, moving like a jungle cat, pacing restlessly through the long living room. “These men are professionals. You both know that. Whatever you did to bring on…”

“He worked in a high-security job, Justin, nothing illegal. It isn't drug related so get that right out of your head.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, torn between worry that he'd placed the Tomlinson family in danger and feeling pleased that Louis had turned protective. He immediately had become like a fierce tiger ready to spring if the sheriff continued to cast aspersions on Harry’s character.

“I want to know what we're up against. And don't start throwing words around like security clearance to me. If we have a couple of men willing to break into a house with a high-powered rifle-“

“They had a tranq dart in it,” Louis interrupted hastily.

“I was kidnapped, along with my assistant, nearly a year ago. My assistant was killed and I barely escaped with my life.” As Harry spoke, a dark shadow fell across the room. Outside, the ocean waves thundered and sprayed into the air. “They wanted information that could have affected the security of our nation and I refused to give it to them.” Harry passed a hand over his face as if wiping away a nightmare. “I know that sounds melodramatic, but…” He slowly unbuttoned his shirt to expose his chest and the whorls and scars left behind. “I want you to know what these people are like.”

The shadow lengthened and grew along the wall behind Harry. The shadow began to take shape, gray, translucent, but there all the same, growing in form until a faceless ghoul emerged with outstretched arms and a long thin body. The mouth yawned open wide, a gesture of greed and craving for the addiction Death had developed. The arms could have been reaching for either Justin for Harry.

Harry hunched away from Justin, pain flickering across his face, his shoulders stiffening as if under a great load.

Alarmed, Daisy reached out and jerked Justin halfway across the room out of harm's way. Justin swore under his breath and planted his feet firmly, thinking she was attempting to throw him out of the house.

Louis adjusted the blinds at the window, filtering out of the light, and returned to Harry's side, touching him gently. That was all. The lightest of touches. Louis simply laid his hand over Harry’s, yet peace stole into Harry as he buttoned his shirt. The terrible weight that always seemed to be pressing him into the ground, lightened.

Lottie's eyes filled with tears and she pressed her fingers to her mouth.

Fizzy left the room to return with a cup of tea. “Drink this, Harry,” she said. “You'll enjoy the taste.”

The aroma alone added to the soothing touch Louis had provided. He didn't think to ask how she had managed to make hot tea in a matter of seconds.

“I could use a cup of tea,” Justin said. “If anyone's asking. And a touch of sanity in the house would be nice, too. Baby Doll was going to huck me right out the door and you all just stood there watching.”

“I'll make it for you.” Daisy leaned against the door frame and looked up at the sheriff. Her fingers twisted together, the only sign of her agitation. “Do you like it sweet? I'm certain I can come up with an appropriate concoction.”

“I think I'll pass altogether. One of these days I'm going to retaliate, Daisy.”

She made a face at him as he crossed to the sliding glass door to stare outside at the pounding waves. “I have a bad feeling about this, Louis. I know you're used to doing things differently and people have no idea how you do it. Maybe you don't know either, I certainly don't, but I believe in you. I sometimes just feel things. It's one of the things that make me good at my job.” He turned to look at her. “I have a _very_ bad feeling about this. Frankly, I'm afraid for all of you.”

There was a small silence. “I believe you, Justin,” Louis said. “I've always known you had a gift.”

Justin’s gaze moved around the room, restlessly touching on each Tomlinson. “I've known this family since I was a boy. Feuds-” his smoldering gaze went to Daisy- “are petty when it comes to your safety. I'm not losing any of you over this. I want to be called if one of you stubs your toe. If you see a stranger or you hear a funny noise. I'm not kidding around with you over this issue. I want your word that you'll call me. You have my private number as well as the number to the office and 911.”

“Justin, don't worry, we'll be fine. I'm very good at what I do,” Louis said, with complete confidence.

Justin took a step toward him, very reminiscent of a stalking panther. Harry was grateful he was too old to be intimidated. “I want your word. Every one of you.”

Harry nodded. “I have to agree with Montgomery. These men tortured us. They don't play around. I'll admit when I'm around you, I feel magic in the air, but these men are evil and capable of torture and murder. I have to know you're all safe or I'll have to leave this town.”

“Harry!” Louis looked stricken. “They'll just follow you.” Worse, Harry would carry Death with him wherever he chose to go.

“Then cooperate with the sheriff. Give him whatever he needs to stop these men.” As ridiculous as it seemed when he'd just met Louis, Harry couldn't bear the thought of leaving him, but he wasn't about to risk Louis' life.

“I don't mind calling you, Justin,” Lottie said readily.

Fizzy held up her hand. “I'm in.”

Louis nodded. “I'm always grateful for help from the local law.”

All eyes turned to Daisy. She shrugged indifferently. “Whatever helps Harry, I'm willing to do.”

Justin ignored the grudge in her voice and nodded. “I want all of you to watch your step. Be aware of your surroundings and any strangers. Keep those dogs close and lock up the house!”

“We're all over it,” Louis agreed.

“Really, Justin, we don't want any part of men with guns. We'll call you even if the cat meows.”

He looked a little mollified. “I'll want extra patrols around here as well as around Harry's house, Louis.”

“Well, of course, Justin,” Louis agreed.

“It will give me every opportunity to make friends with them,” Daisy said. “I don't know many of the new people in town.”

Justin glared at her. “You and your slinky body can just stay away from my deputies.”

Daisy made a face at him, and raised her hand to push at the hair spilling across her face. An icy wind rushed through the room, giving life to the curtains, so that they danced in a macabre fashion, fluttering, reaching toward Justin as if to bind him in the thick folds.

Louis glimpsed a dark shadow moving within the drapes. His hands went up in a casual, graceful wave. Lottie and Fizzy followed the gentle movements with their own. The wind died abruptly and the curtains dropped into place.

Harry cleared his throat. “Does someone want to tell me what happened?”

Justin shook his head. “Never be dumb enough to ask for an explanation from any of them, Harry. You might get it and your hair will turn gray.” His gaze swung to Daisy. “Don't even think about it. I can find my own way out.”

Harry didn't take his eyes from Louis, who was looking at Daisy with accusation in his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Fizzy and Lottie doing the same thing.

Daisy threw her hands into the air. “I wasn't thinking, okay? I'm sorry.”

The silence lengthened, disapproval thick in the room.

Daisy sighed. “I really am sorry. I forgot for just a moment about Dea-“ she broke off abruptly, her gaze shifting to Harry. “About the other thing we're dealing with. It won't happen again.”

“It better not,” Louis said. “You can't afford to forget for one moment. This is too dangerous, Daisy.”

“Wait a minute,” Harry interrupted. “If you're talking about me and those men the other night, I don't want your family involved in any way.”

“The men?” Lottie raised her eyebrow. “Not in the least, Harry, didn't give them a thought. There are things far more dangerous than human beings.”

Harry watched the three sisters and their brother exchange long knowing looks and was exasperated. They knew something he didn't. Something regarding him. “I can understand why poor Montgomery gets so frustrated with you.”

Louis rose and blew him a kiss. “He loves all seven of us. He just likes to puff out his chest.”

“He was genuinely worried,” Harry said. “And I am, too. The things he said make sense. It's bad enough to think of you in danger, let alone all your sisters.” He raked a hand through his hair in agitation. “I can't be responsible for that.”

To his shock they all laughed. “Harry.” Louis' voice was a mixture of amusement and tenderness. “We accepted responsibility for our own decisions a very long time ago. We're grown adults. When we choose to involve ourselves in problems, we accept the consequences.” Louis leaned towards him.

Fizzy groaned dramatically. “He's going to do it. He's going to kiss him right in front of us.”

“That is so not fair, Louis,” Daisy protested.

“Go ahead,” encouraged Lottie. “It'll be great for a tell-all.”

When Louis hesitated, gaze lost in Harry's, Harry took advantage and did the job thoroughly, not wanting to let Lottie down.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter before smut starts lol. just for those who thought it would never come. "A" and I have started work on the next chapter, and we both have several vaca days this week. So you may get it sooner than this weekend. Love to all!
> 
> As always, I don't own any of this, boys, books or ideas.

          Harry heard laughter drifting up from the beach as he limped around the corner of his deck to set his teacup on the small table beside his rocking chair. His hip was bothering him more than usual and Louis wasn't there to make it better.  He'd spent the last several days dragging more and more equipment into his house, setting up a security system that might rival Fort Knox.

Justin Montgomery followed him, but instead of taking the chair Harry waved him toward, he stepped to the corner of the deck to watch the figures running barefoot in the sand on the beach far below. “They're up to something.”

Harry sank into his chair where he had a great view of that small, private beach. The Tomlinson siblings often were on it, day or night, their laughter drifting on the wind, the sound as soothing as the sea itself.

He missed Louis. It was silly to miss someone when he saw him every single day. He'd always been a loner and it didn't make sense to him to need to see Louis' quick, flashing smile. He especially loved to watch his eyes light up each time he saw Harry. He'd take the memory of that expression on his face to his grave.

“I'm beginning to think there really is something magical about the Tomlinson family. I've never needed to be around anyone, but I can't ever imagine never seeing Louis Tomlinson again. I thought my life was my work. My brain runs a hundred miles an hour, always sorting through ideas, but he calms me. Don't ask me how.” Harry could pick Louis out easily, his feathery fringe tossing about in the wind. His skin golden in the diminishing sunlight. “He doesn't think he's beautiful. Isn't that strange?”

Justin shrugged. “I don't think any of them think about their looks all that much, other than Baby Doll. They spoil her and treat her like a little princess.” He raked a hand through his hair, frowning. “Well, I shouldn't say that.” His gaze remained on the tall thin blonde with the waves of platinum hair streaming down her back. “Sometimes I think they cater to her - and other times I think they take advantage of her. Don't ask me how, it's just a feeling.”

“You like them.” Harry took a sip of the hot tea. He never drank tea as a rule, but Louis had brought him a special blend from Daisy and he found it made him feel better when the weight of guilt and memories seemed to crouch heaviest on his shoulder.

“I love them,” Justin corrected. “They're family. _My_ family. I take that very seriously, even if they don't. They spend all of their time getting into trouble, and I don't mean something casual, I mean something dangerous.”

“Like me.” Harry returned the cup to the saucer and sighed. “Louis won't back off. He took the job of guarding me and nothing I say will stop him. I've thought a hundred times about leaving so he'd be safe, but…” He trailed off, wishing he were a bigger man. He'd never had anyone look at him the way Louis did and he just couldn't make himself give that up.

“He'd just follow you, Harry,” Justin said. “The Tomlinsons are tenacious. Once they sink their teeth into a problem, it gets resolved, because they don't know the meaning of the word quit. Louis won't quit you, so don't quit him.”

Harry didn't flinch away from the steel in Justin's eyes. “Don't worry, Montgomery, I hear your warning. I doubt very much I can hurt Louis, other than if my past does, but he's in danger of ripping out my heart and handing it to me on a silver platter.”

“You've got it that bad?”

“Hell yes, I do. I never thought it would happen to me and in such a short time, too. I can't stop thinking about him.” His mouth was dry and his heart pounding just talking about Louis. He couldn't imagine why someone so full of life and laughter and love would choose to be with someone so melancholy and dark. Harry didn't have the least bit of social skills and tended to run roughshod over people with his intellect. He rarely engaged in small, polite conversation and, in fact, knew he was rarely polite. It had never mattered before, but it mattered to Louis.

“If it helps, I've never seen Louis really interested in anyone before. He dated some, but kept it away from the family and Sea Haven. All the girls have probably dated, but we don't see it here.” Justin frowned and turned back towards the sounds drifting on the wind, his gaze finding the tallest of the sisters.

“What is up with that locked gate they all talk about?” Harry asked.

“The infamous gate.” Justin smirked. “They keep that gate padlocked at all times, like that's going to save them from something.”

“Save them from what?”

Justin shrugged. “I think love. I hear them talk sometimes, but they don't tell me much and in all honesty, I don't want to know. Their house holds generations of power. Real power. I hate talking about this stuff because it sounds too _heebie-jeebie_ for me. I like to deal in facts, not magic, but you can feel the power in the house. A few years back they decided to padlock that gate and it's been kept that way ever since.”

“It wasn't locked a week after Louis came home. When I came up the path leading up the house, it was standing open. I felt like the house was welcoming me. The inscriptions on the bottom of the gate, one in Italian and one in Latin, say the same thing.”

“You can read Italian and Latin?” Justin grinned at him. “No wonder Louis is attracted to you. What does it say? I always wanted to know but wasn't about to ask them.”

"'The seven become one when united.' All the symbols have meanings as well. Several are symbols of protection. Do they practice ancient religion?”

“Who the hell knows what they practice. They're magic and they have very real powers. Phoebe is a doctor and I've seen her work miracles. Felicity is a loose cannon sometimes. She utters the word ‘truth’ and everyone around her starts telling every secret they have. Daisy's just plain scary. Doris is very quiet and she doesn't talk much about what she can and can't do, but if she loses her temper, she could probably flatten Sea Haven. It drains them, though, to use their gifts. I've seen them to the point they can't walk or even talk. They drop in their tracks and it takes time for them to recover.”

Harry looked up at the worry in the sheriff's voice. “What are you not saying to me? Why do you have that look on your face?”

Justin nodded toward the beach. “They know something. Louis has precog. At least I think he does. Every single morning I see him drive to your house.”

“He's been working on a security system.”

“I noticed. Its state of the art. But he didn't come this morning and he wasn't here this afternoon. And now its evening and they're on the beach.”

“Believe me; I know Louis hasn't come to see me. It's all I can do not to pick up the phone and call him or go on down to that beach to see what he's up to.”

“I think you should.”

“Go down to the beach? I looked at the trail, Justin. I don't think my hip will hold up.”

“I'll be happy to help you.”

“Why do I have the feeling you're trying to get me into big trouble with those siblings?”

Justin flashed another grin. “Better you than me. The sun's to be setting soon. We can make it to the small dunes and sit there and watch them up close and personal. If you want to be a part of Louis' family, you're going to have to just accept that they can do extraordinary things.”

“Like walk on water?”

“I wouldn't rule it out.”

“You really are a believer. I don't know if I can believe in anything I can't back up with scientific fact.”

Justin's grin grew wider. “You're in for a few shocks, Styles. Come on, you may as well learn what the Tomlinson family is all about.”

Harry wanted to see Louis. And now he was curious about the magic they supposedly wielded. He didn't believe in voodoo and other religions that called on something he couldn't see or feel. Hell, he didn't even know if he believed in God anymore. He had the sneaking suspicion there really was something different about the Tomlinsons. And if that were true, where did that leave him? A man of science, grounded firmly in fact.

He stood up, leaning heavily on his cane. “Hell. It would be just my luck to fall in love with someone who can do some kind of magic. I don't even go to magic shows. I can't enjoy them until I figure out how they do what they do and then it isn't all that impressive anymore.”

“Prepare to be impressed and you're not going to find a scientific answer for anything this family does. I wouldn't even bother to try, Harry, you'll just drive yourself crazy. Let's take the car as far as we can and save your leg.”

“You're off duty tonight?”

Justin nodded. “The family is home, so I figured I might con them out of a home-cooked meal. I like to spend time with them when they're home. They rejuvenate me. Sometimes my job is disturbing. Too many accidents on the highway. They crime in Sea Haven is about nil, but the outlying areas get a bit more. For all their nonsense, the Tomlinsons sooth me.”

Harry followed him out to the car, aware, as they walked, Justin's restless gaze was quartering the area back and forth all around them, looking for danger. Harry ducked his head. He hated that small feeling, so helpless with his damaged hip and damaged soul. He couldn't stop the nightmares and he couldn't prevent others from being in danger just because they were around him.

Justin started the car and pulled onto the highway. “There's a small dirt road leading to the back of the Tomlinson property. We can reach the very top of the path down to the beach from there. Steps have been dug out and most of the way down there's actually a handrail. I think you'll be safe. In any case, you'd better be or Louis will have my hide.”

“He'll probably have it anyway,” Harry said.

Justin's grin was very much in evidence. “You do know that man, even on such short acquaintance. He can keep the others in line as well. If you're really serious about him…” He glanced sideways at Harry for confirmation.

“Very serious.”

“Louis doesn't put up with nonsense. He likes straight answers. He's very tolerant of people, don't get me wrong, but he's loyal and has integrity and he expects the same from the people he lets into his life.”

“Thanks, Montgomery,” Harry said gruffly.

“For what?”

“For thinking I have a chance with him. I never expected to fall in love. Certainly not this fast. I can't tell if he's just feeling sorry for me because my life's gone down the drain, or if he's genuinely interested.”

“He kissed you, Styles. Louis doesn't go around kissing just anyone and certainly not in front of his family.”

Harry couldn't help the little spurt of happiness that seemed to ease the weight bearing down so hard on his shoulders and chest. There were some mornings when he woke up feeling as if someone was crouched on top of him. On those days, he could hardly get out of bed and only Louis' smile brought him a semblance of peace.

This morning he had awakened with sweat pouring from his body and the dark specter of death echoing through his dreams. His shower hadn't helped lift the weight and the rest of the day had been long and difficult. He'd been grateful to see Justin when the sheriff had stopped by to check on him. Part of Harry was afraid he was getting too used to Louis' presence and already relying on the joy and light that always surrounded him. Harry brooded over the fact that he hadn't come to see him, hadn't even called. That scared the hell out of him. He didn't look at Justin as they drove the small distance to the driveway leading to the Tomlinsons private beach entrance.

Justin parked the car just above the path leading to the beach below. He stepped out and went around to help Harry. The wind touched his face gently, almost as if fingertips were caressing him, seeking his attention. The sound of the surf pounded below him and the sound of voices drifted up with it. He couldn't tell if they were chanting, the voices sounded rhythmic, but for some reason, he felt a chill go through his body.

As Harry stepped out of the car, a dark shadow passed overhead. Justin glanced up, but there were no clouds, only the setting sun and the rising moon, crossing paths over the wild waves of the sea. He glanced back at Harry and his breath caught in his throat. There was a black shadow on the rising wall behind them. The dark shape appeared to be hovering over Harry, actually crouching on his shoulders, Harry bent over with the weight of the apparition, leaning heavily on his cane.

Ice cold fingers of fear frissoned down Justin's back. The black shape took on a face, a grinning skull with skin stretched back and bony arms stretching towards Harry. Justin stepped in front of the other man instinctively. He heard the chant swell in volume, the voices much more clear, carried on the breeze. The sky turned blood red and the boom of the sea was louder as the wind rose to a shriek, ripping and tugging at the black shape in an effort to dislodge it from Harry's shoulders.

Weight settled on Justin and he watched the black shadow on the rock as it stretched in an effort to encompass his frame as well as Harry's.

“I can't move,” Harry said. “And I'm cold all the way through my body.” He hunched his shoulders against a terrible weight, hand absently rubbing his chest, right over his heart. “What's wrong with me?”

“I don't know,” Justin said grimly. But he feared he did know. The Tomlinson siblings were fighting for Harry's life and because he had dared to step between Harry and that shadow, they were fighting for his life as well. He felt helpless standing there with the wind blowing on his face, afraid to move, afraid the shadow would take Harry. The claws seemed stretched with greed, the head of the thing leaning toward Harry as if trying to draw the breath from his body.

The voices swelled in volume - light, strong, united. Not just the four on the beach, but the three other sisters reaching from the distant places to join so the seven had become united as one. Justin felt the strength and power pouring through them into him. Small glittering colors sparkled and leapt with life. Small fireworks crackled as they formed a wall between the two men and the apparition.

The shadow drew back sharply, careful to avoid the sizzling lights. Justin felt the weight on his shoulders lessen. Harry stood a little straighter. The gray lines etched so deep in his face faded.

Justin drew in a deep breath as he felt a hand brush his. He looked down, expecting to find someone beside him, gripping his fingers tightly. The sensation was there. Soft. Firm. In control. Yet no one was there. He stood alone with the wind on his face, ruffling his hair and the feel of someone holding him tightly. A feminine body pressed close to his. Everything male in him roared with protest. One of the Tomlinsons - it felt like Daisy - shielded him, and that was just unacceptable.

He made out the shapes of several beings arms raised to the sky in the midst of the crackling fireworks, insubstantial figures wavering in the air as if they were spirit rather than flesh and blood. Behind him, Harry swore softly under his breath, the actual words unintelligible, but Justin had the same strong sense of real danger. Harry didn't want to hide behind the women any more than Justin did. It was bad enough, and _hard_ enough to accept being shielded by Louis. But his sisters being in danger stabbed Harry's heart with something different.

Justin tried to move, to step forward, to push his way through that wall of glittering lights and transparent figures to get at the crouching dark shape that was retreating slowly, driven back by the siblings as they pushed him away from the cliff and out toward the ocean. The soft chant was clear now, the voices strong, blending with the wind and pounding sea, filling Justin's head with a strange kind of music.

He turned his head to follow the movement of the shadow as it took to the air, the retreat painfully slow as it moved over the sea. A whale breached and three dolphins spun in the air, spraying droplets of water in an arc over the crashing waves, all four silhouetted against the blood red sky. The shadow's mouth yawned wide as it looked back toward the beach where the Tomlinsons danced, bare feet following a complicated pattern in the sand, arms lifted toward the heavens.

The wind howled, rose to a shriek, and gusted toward the apparition, driving it so far away it was merely a spec on the horizon. Justin stared at it, blinking. When he looked around, the glittering fireworks were gone and the wind had died down to nothing. He glanced at the beach below and saw Louis, Lottie, Felicity and Daisy lying unmoving in the sand.

“Get in the car, Harry.” Justin yanked the door open. “Hurry.”

Harry did as directed, the echoes of the strange terror still gripping him. “What the hell is going on? I didn't see anything but fireworks, but I was…”

“Afraid,” Justin finished for him. “I don't know what the hell went on here tonight and I'm not sure if I want to know. Just get in the car. I need to take you home.”

“Where's Louis?”

“He's with his sisters on the beach. I'll go down to them, but the things I have to say are better said alone.” Grimly the sheriff slammed the door and drove faster than he should have to return Harry to the safety of his home. “Stay inside and use that security system Louis' always fussing over. I'll call later to make certain everything's alright. My deputy, Sebastian Devereau, will drive by several times tonight.”

Justin would have used the siren to return to the beach if it would have gotten him there faster. He was so angry he was certain he shouldn't go, he should stay away from the Tomlinsons until his temper cooled and the fear left his body, but he couldn't just leave them lying exhausted on the beach.

He strode across the wet sand, fury building with every step he took. “What the hell did you all think you were doing?” The sight of their pale faces, worn with fatigue only stepping up his anger. “You were playing with something you sure as hell shouldn't have been playing with.”

Louis lifted a weak hand and waved him away. Daisy didn't look up and Lottie and Fizzy stared at him, their eyes enormous in their pale faces. He dropped onto his knees in the middle of them, reaching out to run his hand up and down over their arms to rub warmth back into them.

“What was it, Louis?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know?”

He sounded so utterly weary he nearly kept his mouth shut. For once, Daisy wasn't sassing him and all of the Tomlinsons looked frightened.

“Hell yes, I want to know.”

“Death. You saw death, Justin. It's how you're connected to us, why you are.” Louis glanced at his sisters and then back at his face. “You have a gift, just as we do. You deny yours and we embrace ours. Death showed you his face and he'll be back. We weakened him, but he'll be back and soon. He has too tight a grip on Harry.” He said the last with a small hiccup in his voice.

At once, his three sisters put their hands on him in an obvious attempt to comfort him. Justin moved closer to Daisy and lifted her slightly so she could rest her head in his lap. He dragged Felicity closer as well until she had her head on his thigh. Louis and Lottie followed suit. He listened to the sound of the ocean, allowing the familiar melody to calm his mind and think more rationally.

“Why is Death after Harry?” He felt like a fool asking the question. When the Tomlinsons did their magic he preferred to be somewhere distant. He knew what they did and he even accepted it, but he always rationalized anything too spooky. Tonight didn't fit into a neat box and he sure as hell was never going to admit to seeing anything or having gifts or curses or anything else he couldn't find a scientific explanation for.

Louis shrugged. “I don't think it much matters who death takes as long as he has someone. I don't want that someone to be Harry - or you.”

“Me?”

“You stood in front of it. You confronted Death. Why did you do that?”

“Damn it, Louis. It was a shadow. A shape on the wall and it looked as if it wanted to consume Styles. I was afraid for him. I just did what seemed right.”

“You brought yourself to his attention. You never want to do that,” Louis said. “Some things are better left alone.”

“Well, you sure as hell must have his attention. And don't ever protect me like that again. I don't want any of you hurt trying to keep something like that off of me. I don't even know if I believe in all this mumbo jumbo. And if I don't, it can't hurt me.” He wanted to shake some sense into them and at the same time he wanted to hold them all close where he could protect them. Give him a flesh and blood criminal any day of the week, one he could see and fight. He forced calm into his voice when his heart was still pounding in fear for them. “Just don't ever do that again. I protect you. That's the way it's always been with us and that's the way it always will be. I'm taking you all up to the house and I'm making you tea. Unless I decide to drop one or two of you in the ocean. I never want to talk about this again and if you bring it up, I swear I'm denying everything.”

He wasn't making much sense but he didn't care. He just wanted them back inside their home where he knew they would be safe. And then he was going to think long and hard about getting drunk.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! Life got in the way. Lol but this is a good chapter, and I've already started the next one. Although I am working on another fic too. ENJOY!
> 
> As usual, I don't own my of this. Story, idea or boys.

“So, Louis," Harry said, intent on finding out why they had pretty much holed themselves away for the last week. He set down his glass of iced tea on the small table between them, which was complete with a bowls of both potato chips and fruit. They were sat on his porch, looking out over the bluffs, snacking and chatting. They had begun spending every minute they could find together. Harry hadn’t had any more unwanted night time visitors, and had enjoyed the added benefit of having the sheriff making regular visits to check the perimeter. Feeling secure for the moment had allowed for much quality time spent with Louis. Taking walks on the beach. Continuing work on the security system for his house. Lazy days of laughter and whispered confidences. But they had mostly kept to one of their homes. While Harry enjoyed every moment spent in Louis’ home, getting to know his sisters, he was curious about Louis’ feelings towards them in public. It just felt like the rumors in town were affecting Louis wanting to be seen with Harry.

Harry wasn’t complaining. He definitely didn’t mind all the alone time with Louis. Harry seemed to never run out of things to say to Louis. He loved listening to Louis' stories and treasured his open personality. And let’s face it, the sexual attraction was real. Very real; as was the struggle to keep it in check. Going to town would help to distract from the mounting tension. At least that was the general hope.

Overhead the seagulls circled, looking down with eager eyes, and hopeful calls for dropped food. Louis looked away from the sights, took a handful of chips and smiled at Harry with a slight question in his eyes. Harry shook his head, dazzled by the smile. Louis could take every thought out of his head with that smile. He refocused on his earlier thought. “Louis, are you afraid for me or for everyone else? It's occurred to me that there's always this buffer between everyone we run across and me. I didn't really notice at first, but last night I was thinking about it. I'm getting to know you and I think you prefer that your friends don't see you with me.”

  
Louis' breath caught in his throat at the hint of pain in Harry's voice. The more time they spent together, the more Louis wanted to be with him. He rushed to reassure Harry, reaching over to put a hand over his. “I don't mind anyone seeing us together. You're the one worried about gossip. I didn’t want it to upset you. I'm used to it and it doesn't bother me.”

  
“Then we'll go into town together.” It was a challenge.

  
Louis let out his breath. The early morning fog had burned off, leaving the sky an amazing shade of blue. Louis could see clouds gathering far out over the sea. He looked carefully at Harry, inspecting every inch of him. There was no dark shadow around him and his shoulders weren't hunched as if carrying a great weight. “Sounds great, if you're really certain you want to brave it.”

  
Harry stood up, and held his hand out to Louis. “Come on.”

  
“Right now?” Louis hadn't expected Harry would really want to go, but obediently took his hand and allowed Harry to help him up.

  
“Yes, while I have my courage up,” Harry said with a wink. “Walking with you through town should set a match to the gossips. The story will spread like wildfire.” Louis chuckled softly, knowing it was true.

  
"Although," Harry continued, absentmindedly stroking Louis' thumb with his own where their fingers were still interlocked. "If Montgomery is anything like Barbara, then the whole town already knows that I can't get enough of you." The sheriff had definitely given them knowing looks and smirked on more than one occasion while securing the property over the last week. There hadn’t been one time that Louis hadn’t been there when Montgomery had stopped by. And if he had caught them in a steamy make out session a few times, well, then maybe he should knock louder.

  
"Montgomery isn't the one you should be worried about," Louis teased, eyes twinkling. "My sisters are notorious for inserting themselves into my love life. Even Phoebe, Erin, and Doris probably know that I spend all of my time at your house by now, and they're on the other side of the world."

  
"And are your sisters normally so interested in every guy you spend time with?" Harry asked, a trace of jealousy creeping through. He knew he had no right to be jealous; Louis could spend time with whoever he wanted. It's not like they were exclusive. And even though Harry had retired, his job was still dangerous. The men that tried to kidnap him was proof of that. It was probably even better if Louis did stay away from him. But the thought of not seeing Louis anymore, not hearing his voice and the way it softens when speaking of his family, not being able to kiss him anytime he felt like it, it physically pained him to think about it.

  
"Just the ones I kiss," Louis said, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. Louis tightened his hold on Harry's hand before adding, "And you're the first person I've kissed in years. My sisters are just excited that I've finally found someone that makes me happy." Louis grabbed Harry's chin so he was forced to make eye contact. "You make me very happy, Harry."

  
"I know I said that I wanted to walk through town with you," Harry said slowly, stepping closer to Louis as his gaze travelled from Louis' bright blue eyes to his lips. "And I still do. But I really just want to kiss you right now."

  
"Is that so?" Louis said, voice dropping low. He stepped even closer, bridging the distance between them quickly. "But if you did that, how would I convince you that I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you?" He gripped Harry's hip with one hand, squeezing his love handle and eliciting a small gasp out of Harry before bunching the hem of Harry's shirt in one hand, tracing the laurel tattoo with the thumb of the other. "No, I think it's better if we just go to town instead." Louis’ voice was soft, distracted as he lost himself in the feel of Harry’s skin and the thought of how badly he wanted to suck a mark on those laurels.

  
"And I think you talk too much," Harry said gripping the back of Louis' neck and smashing their lips together. He would never tire of kissing Louis. His lips were thinner than Harry's, but they were soft. And tasted of banana chap stick. He probably made his own because he was pretty sure chap stick didn't come in that flavor. But before he could make a mental note to ask Louis about his chap stick, Louis was lightly biting his bottom lip, deepening the kiss once Harry gasped and parted his lips. He couldn't remember the last time kissing someone felt this good. No, he would never tire of kissing Louis...but he definitely craved more.

  
Louis pushed Harry up against the side of the house, nearly tripping over his cane that had long been forgotten on the floor. “Still want to go to town?” Louis asked, attaching his lips to the soft patch of skin behind Harry's ear, grinning when Harry broke out in goose bumps.

  
"Yes," Harry moaned brokenly. "Just—" Harry gripped Louis' ass, dragging his body into him. "Haven't gotten my fill of you yet."

  
"Harry," Louis whimpered into Harry's neck. "Don't talk about being full of me unless you plan on following through." He slid one thigh between Harry's and rolled his hips forward.

  
Oh. Harry hips stuttered of their own volition, at the blatant wanting in Louis’ voice. And he was definitely on board with this plan. Harry slid down the siding a little until he was level with Louis, his legs parting even more to allow Louis better access. He tentatively pitched his hips forward, both of them moaning when Louis thrust back against him, creating delicious friction.

  
The last time he had gotten off just by rutting against someone, he had been a teenager and hadn't discovered the glory of blowjobs yet. But the feeling of his cock pressed against Louis’, their jeans not even unzipped, felt more intimate than any blowjob could.

  
Louis ground his hips into Harry, relishing every moan that passed his lips and the flushed expression on his face, eyes wide and glossy, pupils blown. _That's for me_. Louis couldn't help but swell with pride at the thought. _I did that_. Louis bit down in the juncture of Harry's neck and shoulder, his hand pressing his hip against the side of the house, the other sliding underneath the front of his shirt and up his torso. Despite the scars and burns littering Harry's skin, he was still the most beautiful man Louis had ever seen. He couldn't wait to show Harry how beautiful he was.

  
"Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? I just want to spread you out and mark you all over." Louis continued his ministrations against Harry's neck, sucking and biting until a red mark was blooming.

  
"You can't just—I need—" Harry moved his neck to the side, unable to do much else since Louis' fingers were still digging into his hips, trapping him against the house.

  
"Wait until the townspeople get a look at this," Louis whispered in his ear, licking over the bruise that was forming. And that, that was too much for Harry. The thought of everyone being able to see that he was Louis', pushed him over the edge. He cried out, hips rutting intensely against Louis, as he came in his pants. The intenseness of bringing Harry so quickly to climax, propelled Louis into his own intense orgasm. They rode out the waves of pleasure, til their heart rates slowed, and Louis slumped against Harry, with a content sigh.  
He raised his head once they had both caught their breaths, smirking up at Harry. "I never knew you had an exhibition kink. What if the sheriff had driven by while you were gagging for it?"

  
Harry rolled his eyes, his ears slightly pinking. "I wasn't 'gagging' for it," he said, using air quotes. "And besides, you were the one who started grinding. I just wanted to kiss you."

  
"Kiss me?" Louis asked coyly. "That's _all_ you want to do to me?"

  
Harry's eyes darkened at the thought of another round. Preferably this time without clothes. And in the privacy of his bedroom. Exhibition kink or not, Louis had no problems getting Harry hot and bothered. But he didn't need the townspeople knowing what Louis looked like naked. No, that was for his eyes only. He leaned closer to Louis, lowering his voice before saying, "No, I also want to get you in the shower,” he slapped Louis’ butt and smiled, “so we can go to town.” He leaned back and laughed at the shocked expression on Louis' face. "Come on, Tomlinson." Harry leaned down, grabbed his cane where it had fallen during their escapade and started walking towards the front door. "Unless you want to go to town with dried come on your jeans." Harry was already in the house, but Louis could still hear, "Or maybe you're the one with the exhibition kink," drift through the open window.

  
* * * * *

  
After deciding that showering together would just result in further escapades, Harry went to his drawers to grab Louis a pair of pants to borrow, so he could shower in the guest bathroom.

  
“Boxers?” he asked Louis, after handing him a pair of black skinny jeans. Louis cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

  
“Nah,” he said, innuendo heavy in his voice. “I’ll just go commando.” Harry’s head shot up and he whipped to look at Louis, but Louis was already out the door and headed to the shower. Harry groaned and cupped his already growing erection through his cum stained pants.

  
“Not helpful!” he called after Louis. He heard Louis’ muffled laughter from behind the guest bathroom door down the hall. Harry grabbed a clean set of clothes for himself and went to his own bathroom. He quickly showered and changed and was pulling his wet curls into a bun, when Louis came back into the room. He had an over sized T-shirt, which Harry was sure was from his clean laundry pile. Harry being taller than Louis, the pants he’d borrowed were fairly long legged. Louis had rolled the pant legs up slightly, and left his feet sockless in his tennis shoes, exposing his ankles. He looked beautiful and Harry realize he was full on staring, arms still poised above his head, hair half pulled into the bun. Louis stared back at him, eyes roaming over Harry’s figure in black skinnies practically painted on and a half unbuttoned cream colored shirt, riding up his stomach with Harry’s hands in his hair.

  
“We should go,” Harry started, mouth feeling overly dry. Louis nodded distractedly.

  
“Yeah we should,” he replied, closing the distance between them, and deeply kissing Harry, who’s hands immediately went from his hair to Louis waist. The kiss intensified and their breathing became heavy, Louis’ own hands roaming over Harry’s back and up his neck, to tangle in his wet locks. As they slowed, attempting to retain control of themselves, Louis pulled back slightly, leaving their foreheads pressed together. “But I will get you in a bed sooner rather than later.” His tone sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

  
“Fine with me,” he replied breathlessly.

  
* * * * *

  
Once they had driven the short distance to the town, and parked in the middle of the square, Louis started in the direction of the grocery store determined to get it over with. They watched Montgomery strolling down the sidewalk, when a sudden gust of wind swept his hat off his head and into the street. He swore loudly, his hand tightening into a fist.

  
“Damnit Daisy!” he shouted in the direction of the house on the bluff. “I know that was you!” He grudgingly walked over to his hat, bending down to grab it. Another light breeze ruffled the air, a tinkling of laughter riding it. Or so Harry swore he could hear. Montgomery meandered on down the road, mumbling about the wind. Louis chuckled, watching the sheriff walk away. Harry reached out and tangled his fingers with Louis'.

  
“Sometimes I feel bad for Montgomery,” he said, sympathy in his voice. “When he stops by he’s always nice.”

  
“Are you certain you want to do this?” Louis' voice was sceptical, holding their hands up. “Holding my hand in public is going to bring the spotlight shining very brightly on you. Rumors are going to race through town faster than a seagull flies. I know how much your privacy means to you.”

  
“That was before I retired. When I worked from morning until night and had no life.” Harry laughed softly. He was happy. Looking at Louis made him happy. Walking with him, talking with him. It was ridiculous how happy he was when he was in Louis' company. It made no sense but he wasn't going to question a gift from the heavens.  
“We may as well give them something real to gossip about.”

  
Louis' laugh floated on the breeze, a melodious sound that turned heads. “Not 'gossip' Harry, it's 'news'. No one gossips here. You have to get it straight.”

  
Harry listened to the sound of their shoes on the wooden walkway. Everything was so different with Louis. He felt as if he'd finally come home. He looked around him to the picturesque homes, so quaint and unique. It no longer felt alien or hostile to him; the people were eccentric, but endearing. How had Louis done that? Mysterious Louis. Even the wind welcomed him back home. Harry's fingers tightened around his, holding Louis to him. He wasn't altogether certain Louis was human and Harry feared he'd fly away without warning, joining the birds over the sea.

  
Louis waved to a young woman on a porch. “They're good people, Harry. You won't find more accepting people in your life than the ones living here.”

  
“Even Montgomery?” he teased.

  
“I feel a little sorry for him, too," Louis answered seriously. “Most of the time, Justin is a caring, compassionate man and very good with everyone, but he just refuses to see the truth about Daisy. He looks at her and only sees what's on the outside. She's always been beautiful.” Louis’ voice was tinged with pride. “ _He_ was very popular with the girls in high school, an incredible athlete, tons of scholarships, the resident dreamboat.” Louis made a gesture like “big deal”. His eyes darkened slightly and his voice hardened as he continued, “He thought Daisy was stuck up because she never spoke to him. He made her life a living hell, teasing her unmercifully all through school. She's never forgiven him and he'll never understand why.” Harry squeezed Louis’ hand, but stayed silent. Louis’ voice softened, “He's a good man and he wasn't being malicious in school. From his perspective, he was just teasing. He has no idea Daisy is painfully shy and he never will.”

  
Harry made a dissenting noise in his throat. “She's a supermodel, Louis—on the cover of every magazine there is. She travels all over the world. And, I have to say, she appears very confident on every television and news interview and talk show I've seen her on. I would never associate her with the word 'shy'.” Louis shook his head in disagreement.

  
“She hyperventilates before speaking in public; in fact, she carries a paper bag with her. Most of the talk show hosts and interviewers are careful with her.” He stopped walking and turned to look directly at Harry. “Just because she's painfully shy, doesn't mean she allows it to affect her life.” Harry looked slightly sheepish and nodded his head. He looked at Louis curiously.

  
“Why wouldn't you just clue Montgomery in?” Louis cocked an eyebrow, attitude clearly showing this has been conversation had before.

  
“Why should he judge Daisy so harshly, just because she looks the way she does? My sister, Erin, is striking as well, although not in exactly the same way. Justin would never dare torment her. All of my sisters are good-looking and he doesn't use that sarcastic tone on them. He only does it to Daisy and in front of everyone.”

  
Harry heard the fierce protective note in Louis' voice and smiled. He drew him closer beneath his broad shoulder. His Louis. They turned to continue their way towards the store. Harry’s mind drifted to his developing feelings towards Louis. Oh who was he trying to kid? Developing? More like head over heels, crazy for, staying up nights thinking about feelings.

  
Without warning, fear struck, deep, haunting, sharp like a knife. His breath left his lungs. He stopped walking, his hand tugging Louis to a stop next to him. He turned and faced him head on. “Louis? Are we thinking the same thing?” Louis searched Harry’s face, concern and question in his expression. Harry hurried to explain. “I've never wanted someone in my life before. Not once. I've only just met you and can't imagine the rest of my life without you.” He dropped Louis’ hand to rake both his through his hair, his cane nearly hitting his head. Louis pulled his hands back down, keeping hold of them, while trying to hide his smile. Harry’s eyes widened. “Do you know what I sound like? An obsessed stalker.” He let out his breath in a gush of air and lowered his head, almost shyly. “I'm not like this with everyone, Louis. Hell, I’ve never been like this with anyone. I can’t explain it.”

  
Louis' eyes danced. “That leaves wide-open territory, Harry. You're talking about a family with 7 kids and a billion cousins. I have a million aunts and uncles. You can't leave yourself open like that or they're going to tease you unmercifully.”

  
They were halted directly in front of the grocery store. Harry straightened himself upright and levelled his gaze. Catching Louis’ chin in hand, Harry tilted his face up and said, “I'm serious, Louis. I know I want a future with you in it. I have to know we're on the same page.”

  
Louis didn’t hesitate for a second, just went up on his toes to press a kiss to Harry's mouth. “Here's a little news flash for you, Harry. I don't just randomly compromise my jobs by getting involved with my clients. I don't, as a rule, kiss strange men and spend the night wishing they'd make the big move.” A smile tugged at Harry’s lips, his thoughts drifting to their earlier antics.

  
“You want me to make a move on you?” he asked, smirk growing.

  
Louis laughed, tugged at Harry's hand, dragging him into the store. “Of course I do.”

  
“Well, this is a hell of a time to tell me.”

  
Barbara was at the store window with three of her customers, including Jennifer, whom Harry recognized as the woman leaving Louis’ house the first time they met. They were all staring at Louis and Harry with their mouths open. Harry scowled at them. “Is it fly-catching season?”

  
Louis squeezed his hand tightly in warning. All the while, smiling serenely. “Barbara! We just dropped in for a quick minute. Lottie and Daisy and Fizzy are in town for a few days and they can't wait to see you! Erin and Doris and Phoebe send their love and told me to tell you they hope to get back soon.” His voice was bright and cheerful, dispelling an air in the gloom of the store. “You do know Harry, of course.”

  
Barbara nodded, her hawk like gaze narrowing in shock on their linked hands. Her throat worked convulsively. “Yes, of course I do. I didn't know you two were _intimate_ friends,” her emphasis on the word unmistakable.

  
Harry glared at her, daring the woman to imply anything else. Louis simply laughed. “I snagged him the minute I saw him, Barbara. You always told me to settle down with a good man and, well…here he is.”

  
“I never guessed, and Mr. Styles didn't say a single word," Barbara said, tone still wary.

  
Harry forced a smile under the subtle pressure of Louis' grip, his nails biting into his hand, as if to say, ‘you asked for this'.

  
“Call me Harry, Barbara. I never managed to catch you alone.” It was the best excuse he could come up with and sound plausible. It must have worked because Barbara’s entire demeanor changed, as she beamed at him, bestowing on him a smile she reserved for her closest friends. In spite of himself, Harry could feel a tiny glow of pleasure at the acceptance.

  
“How is everything lately?” Louis asked before Harry could warn him it was a bad idea to get Barbara started.

  
“Honestly, Louis, Piper over at the gift shop is a lovely woman, but she just doesn't understand the importance of recycling. Just this morning I saw her dump her papers right in with plastic. I've sorted for her many times and showed her the easiest way to go about it, but she just can't get the hang of it. Be a dear, and do something about it, won't you?”

  
Harry's mouth nearly fell open at the request. What did Barbara want Louis to do? Separate the woman's garbage for her?

  
“No problem, Barbara. I'll go over there now. Harry and I are hoping some of our friends will help us with a small problem. There are some strangers who have been in town, probably for a week or two; three men. We'd like to know their whereabouts, their movements, that sort of thing.” Barbara was suddenly all business and listened intently as Louis spoke. “Unfortunately we don't have a clear description, but one of them has a facial injury, most likely around his jaw. I'm hoping another might have got bitten by a tick.” He paused, a wicked little grin playing around the corners of his mouth. “Maybe a lot of ticks.”

  
“What have they done?” Barbara asked, lowering her voice, as if she'd joined a conspiracy.

  
“They tried to break into Harry's house.” Barbara’s widened and her gaze jumped to Harry in concern. "Everything is fine, but just be on the lookout. Justin has all the information we could give him. He was going to check the hospital and clinic.” Louis had turned over the tranquilizer gun to him, too, albeit under slight protest. It was a nice piece of equipment. “If someone spots them, or mentions them to you, would you mind giving me a call? And maybe it would be good to call Justin, too.” Barbara’s demeanor changed slightly again, taking on an air of nonchalance.

  
“Now, dear, you know I don't believe in sticking my nose into anyone's business, but if you really need me to help you, I'll be more than happy to oblige," Barbara said, her eyes wandering to Jenn and the two other patrons, “There are always so many tourists, but we should be able to spot a man with something wrong with his jaw.” Her customers nodded their heads. What a town, Harry thought.

  
Louis leaned over to kiss Barbara on the cheek, affectionately. “You're such a good friend, Barbara. I don't know what we'd all do without you.” He turned to look at Jennifer. “Jenn, I hope you don't mind me bringing Harry when I call on you and Connor this afternoon.” He wanted to assess Connor's condition before he brought his sisters over and raised Jennifer's hopes further. “We just want to visit with him a few minutes," he added hastily. “We won't tire him.”

  
Jennifer's face brightened considerably. “Thank you, Louis; of course you can bring anyone you want with you. I told Connor you might be dropping by and he was so excited. He'll love the company. He rarely sees even his friends anymore.” Her expression dimmed.

  
“Good, I can't wait to see him again. Now don't go to any trouble, Jenn. Last time I came to visit, you had an entire luncheon waiting.” Louis rubbed Harry's arm. “Jenn is such a wonderful cook.” Jennifer’s face started beaming again, a slight flush to her cheeks.

  
“Oh, she is," Barbara agreed readily. “Her baked goods are always the first to go at every fundraiser.”

  
The warmth in Harry's heart rushed to his belly, heated his blood. Louis spread sunshine. That had to be his secret. Wherever he went, he just spread goodwill to others because he genuinely cared about them. It wasn't that he was being merely tolerant; he liked his neighbors with all their idiosyncrasies. Harry couldn't help the strange feeling of pride sweeping through him. How had he gotten so lucky?

  
They said their goodbyes and see you laters, and left the grocery store. Harry pushed his sunglasses onto his nose as they meandered across the street. He saw they were heading toward the colorful gift shop. Harry looked incredulous. “Are you really going to sort some woman's garbage, Louis?”

  
“Of course not,” Louis said with a chuckle. “I'm just popping in to say hello. Maybe our intruders will buy a memento of their stay or possibly a gift for someone. You never know, we may as well cover all the bases," he finished blithely.

  
Harry laughed. “Louis, babe, I hardly think kidnappers are going to take the time to buy a memento of their stay. I could be wrong, but it seems rather unlikely.”

  
Louis simply grinned at him. Harry's breath hitched; that damn smile. Louis should always have been in his life. By his side. All those years working, never thinking about anything else, and Louis had been somewhere in the world. If they had met earlier, he might have retired sooner and…

  
“Do you have any idea how perfectly tempting your mouth is, Harry?” Louis interrupted his thoughts, voice matter-of-fact, intensely interested. Before Harry could respond they heard a woman’s voice calling out.

  
“Louis! Louis Tomlinson! Yoo-hoo!” A tall woman of Amazonian proportions and extraordinary skin waved wildly, intercepting them. An older man, obviously her father, and a teenage boy followed her at a much more sedate pace. Louis turned in greeting, but kept his eyes on Harry.

  
Louis had felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck begin to stand on end. The clouds, gathering ominously over the sea, so far away only minutes earlier, moved inward at a rapid rate. The wind howled, blowing in from the sea, carrying something dark and dangerous with it. Icy fingers touched Louis' face, almost a caress of delight…or challenge. He watched Harry's face, his body, as he accepted the weight, a settling of his shoulders, small lines appearing near his mouth. Stealing the light heartedness from Harry, leaving him burdened and broken. He didn't appear to notice, already far too familiar with his grim companion.

  
Louis moved closer to Harry, a purely protective gesture as the two men approached them in the wake of the woman. The welcoming smile faded from Louis' face. A shadow moved on the walkway, slithering along the ground, a wide dark net casting for prey. “Connie, it's been a long time.” But he was looking at the older man. “Mr. Parker. How nice to see you again. And Matthew, I'm so glad we ran into you. I'm visiting Connor soon. I'll be able to tell him I saw you. I'll bet he'll be happy to hear from you.”

  
Matthew Granger scuffed the toe of his boot on the sidewalk. “I should go see him. It's been awhile. I didn't know what to say.”

  
Louis placed his hand on his shoulder. Harry could see he was worried. “You'll find the right thing to say to him. That's what friendship is, Matt, to be there in good and bad times. The good is easy, the bad, well”—he shrugged—“that's a bit more difficult. But you've always been incredibly tough, and you’re Connor's best friend. I know you'll be there for him.”

  
Matthew nodded his head. “Tell him I'll be over this evening.”

  
Louis smiled his approval. “I think that's a great idea, Matthew.” He touched the elder Parker with gentle fingers. “How did your visit to the cardiologist go?”

  
“Why, Louis," Connie answered, "Dad doesn't have a cardiologist. There's nothing wrong with his heart.”

  
“Really? It never hurts to be safe, Mr. Parker. Check-ups are always so annoying but ultimately necessary. Connie, do you remember that cardiologist my mother went to when we were in our first year of college? In San Francisco?”

  
“I do remember, Louis.” Connie exchanged a long look with her father. “Maybe we could get him in next month when things settle down at the shop.”

  
“These things are always better if you insist on taking care of things immediately," Louis prompted. He then gestured to Harry. “This is Harry Styles, a friend of mine. Have you three met?”

  
Harry was standing there simply astonished. Matthew was going to go visit his very ill friend and Mr. Parker was going to see a cardiologist, all at Louis' mere suggestion. He looked closer at the older man. He couldn't see that Mr. Parker looked sick. What could Louis have seen that he hadn't? There was no doubt in his mind that the cardiologist was going to find something wrong with Mr. Parker's heart. He snapped himself out of his reverie and introductions went around. After Louis asked the three of them to keep an eye out for the strangers with bruises on their face or jaw, the trio agreed before hurrying away.

  
“How do you do that?” Harry asked, intrigued. Louis was doing something; knew things he shouldn't know.

  
“Do what?” Louis asked, not a trace of anything in his voice. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  
Harry studied Louis' face there on the street with the sunlight shining down on them. He couldn't stop looking at him, couldn't stop wanting him. Couldn't believe he was real. “You see something beyond the human eye, Louis, something science can't explain,” he said, curiousity in his tone. “I believe in science, yet I can't find an explanation for what you do.” Just like that his tone wasn’t laced with curiosity anymore.

  
Harry was looking at Louis with so much hunger, so much stark desire in his expression, Louis' heart melted on the spot and his body went up in flames. “It's a Tomlinson legacy. A gift,” his voice sounded extremely breathy and Louis was sure he'd had a point with those words, but fuck if he could remember anything besides the feel of Harry pressed against him, and how badly he wanted that again. He couldn't think of anything but Harry and the need etched on his face, the hunger in his eyes. Louis' fingers reached out, tangling in the front of Harry's shirt, right outside the gift shop, in plain sight of the definitely interested townspeople. Louis shook his head as if trying to clear it.

  
“The Tomlinson gate prophecy forgot to mention the intensity of the physical attraction," Louis murmured, gaze jumping between Harry’s eyes and lips. Harry made the smallest sound, close to a whimper.

  
A man could drown in Louis' eyes, be lost forever. Harry's hands tightened possessively, brought Louis closer to him, right up against his body. Every cell reacted instantly. Whips of lightning danced in his bloodstream, while tongues of fire licked his skin at the simple touch of Louis' fully clothed body. What was going to happen when Louis was naked, completely bare beneath him?

“I might not survive,” Harry whispered the answer out loud.

  
“Would we care?” Louis asked, just as softly. He couldn't look away from Harry, couldn't stop staring into his eyes, watching his tongue dart out to wet his lips, his throat bob with an anticipatory swallow. He wanted Harry. Ached for him. Wanted to be alone with him. It didn't matter where, just that they were alone.

  
“You can't look at me like that," Harry said. “I’m going to go up in flames, and I'm too damned old to be acting like a teenager.”

  
“No, you're not," Louis denied, pushing against him, crowding really close. “By all means, I don't mind at all.” His voice dropped to a sinful whisper. "Besides, I'm fairly certain we were acting very much like teenagers earlier." Harry's eyes darkened at the memory. Pressed against him like this, Louis could feel that he wasn't the only one who's thoughts were about to cause them some embarrassment. He half turned toward the street, still in Harry's arms. “I think Barbara is falling out of her window. Poor thing, she's bound to lose her eyesight if she keeps this up. I should have suggested she get a new pair of glasses. I'll let Felicity suggest it. You have to be careful with Barbara because she's so sensitive." It was the way Louis said it, so absolutely sincere, that tugged at Harry's heartstrings.

  
“I never could get along with people. Ever. Not even in college. Everyone always annoyed me. I preferred books and my lab to talking with a human being," Harry admitted, wanting Louis to understand the difference he'd made in Harry. He was actually beginning to care about Barbara and that was plain damned scary. He was finding the townspeople interesting, after seeing them through Louis' eyes. “But don't think I didn't notice that subtle change of subject."

Harry's voice was pitched low, lower than normal, sending little shocks down Louis' spine. "Let's go back to my house," Harry suggested. “Didn't you say there could be bugs in that security system?” Louis wanted to just go back to Harry's house. Harry's voice was like dark ribbons of satin chocolate, and Louis wanted to hear it completely wrecked and begging. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and backed out of Harry's arms, his hand sliding down to interlock their fingers. If he didn’t get control he’d be taking Harry to the Old Mill and their teenager ways would resume.

  
“I'm certain I need to check it over," Louis agreed, “but I do have to make this one stop first. I promised Barbara.”


End file.
